Thursday, March 24, 2016


He looks so wise
With his old man's eyes
Those windows into a battered soul
Blazing so bright, I can look no more

He smiles and is a child again
So young, barely nine or ten
He plays so happily, gaily
Like he hasn't just lost home and family

One time he tells me he doesn't cry
He's learned it doesn't work, that's why
Another time he says he isn't afraid
That he's going to learn to be strong instead

He is wiser than he should be
Seen things that never should've been
But wisdom seldom comes to those with closed eyes
So I turn my gaze back to those old man's eyes

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