and i thought

who is this man

of the dark and secret eyes

hard lines of age

chiseled

into the marble head

of the sagging shoulders

of the tired, crooked back.

 

and i thought

who is this man

of the wise and tired eyes

years of hard work

exposed

on the withered, cracked hands

of the aged brittle arms

of the tired, crooked back.

 

and i thought

who is this man

of the hard and ruthless eyes

the stress of life

displayed

on the weak, wobbly knees

of the now feeble legs

of the tired, crooked back.

 

and i thought

who is this man

of the tense and forlorn eyes

the guilt of neglect

revealed

in the eyes of a man

said to be my father

with the tired, crooked back.