Alone

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He once sat on the corner there.
Darkened eyes rank greasy hair
Clothe in tattered mismatched rags
He smelled of sweat, cheap wine and fags

His eyes tear streaked and burning red
He spoke daily to the forgotten dead
He sang songs in sweet harmony, alone
He shared food with those long gone

He lived only in his memories
Eyes seeing shades of yesteryears
He danced softly to a different rhyme
Heart broken, and mind lost to time

© Dave Kavanagh @ daithiocaomanaigh.com

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