The chimes of the clock strike twelve <br />the old man breathes a sigh <br />stares distantly into the flickering flames <br />with sad and gentle eyes <br /> <br />Fond memories spread from his heart <br />of thoughts he gave a smile <br />remembering how pleasant it was <br />when just a little child <br /> <br />So still so silent the old mans gaze <br />into the flames solemn eyes he cast <br />stirring up cares once long forgotten <br />pertain that of the past <br /> <br />Beneath his eyebrows streaked with grey <br />a fountain gurgled within his heart <br />a swollen tear came to his eyes <br />dropped over and broke apart <br /> <br />The firelight glimmered and vanished <br />in darkness the old man rests <br />silence was broken by a sigh <br />from his lips he uttered a lonely cry <br />deep from in his heart unrest <br /> <br />The old mans eyes gently closed <br />his grey head sinks on his chest <br />wheels of machinery in his heart <br />ceased each working part <br />so still and silent at rest.<br /><br />ian adams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/old-age-when-death-comes-knocking/
