This withered man <br />I slowly feed, <br />once held the spoon for me. <br />What once were strong - <br />two working hands - <br />now stiff and idle tools. <br /> <br />The empty eyes, <br />where pride once shined <br />a shade to shame the sea, <br />were waned of light <br />a year ago - <br />now flameless, shallow pools. <br /> <br />I spill some soup <br />upon the knee <br />where bouncing kids once played. <br />It's sad to think <br />the spring within - <br />has no more rides to grant. <br /> <br />The lifeless lips, <br />where smiles once grew - <br />a silent, barren glade. <br />I only wish <br />he'd speak to me. <br />Regretfully...he can't. <br /> <br />This once great man sits silently, <br />in Winters bitter glaze. <br />The tables turned; our roles reversed - <br />These cruel and final days.<br /><br />Xillus Xavier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-once-proud-man-sits-silently/
