Their voice cries what tears they have to shed__ <br />He wears long sleeves to conceal his weaknesses <br />For the ladies with names like Morphine and Cocaine <br />And the tracks they leave on his arms and between his toes <br />She tattoos herself with the wicked symbols of darkness <br />So the light won’t reveal how she whores herself to her own <br />Even her daddy once pimped her out for a pack of smokes <br />The wounded old man sits and waits for Death to knock once more <br />This time he knows the knock will be for him and not for those <br />Six soldiers from Kansas who had been caught napping at their post <br />The war was Hell and so in Hell is where they built the veteran’s home <br />Old and wrinkled with the fabricated worries of pompousness <br />Grandma now wishes to accept her roll as matriarch and apologize <br />For all the years she primped and pampered her once flawless skin <br />Instead of paying proper attention to her family and friends <br />All of whom are no longer there to recognize she is nearing the end <br />As she prays for them to return so that they might see her as she really is... <br />God smiles but does not laugh at the weak among us <br />As pitiful as they are and so forgotten they may seem… <br /> <br />Know he saves his best jokes for you…O ye of little faith… <br /> <br />2007 © T Sheridan<br /><br />Ted Sheridan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/blessed-are-they-who-call-on-him/
