you see it in the wavering <br />there used to be a ‘can do’ <br />flame to power this man, a <br />light that burned the brightest <br />when the hard times came <br /> – but now he quakes <br /> <br />hesitation rheums once smugly <br />eagle eyes – he looks away <br />taloned hands are bent like <br />crudely battered remnant <br />lips that can’t efface <br />a righteous sneer <br /> <br />shambling gait explains <br />an ingrained fear of falling <br />set in place; for years he made <br />affection claim dependency <br />in she who gave with gracious <br />love but sadly went away <br /> <br />parody in awful taste or <br />phoenix in its ash, he knows <br />he cannot rise less crash with <br />no surprise or deep regret <br /> – I can’t forget the day <br />the Future died he says <br />© 30 October 2009, I. D. Carswell<br /><br />Ivan Donn Carswell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/day-the-future-died/
