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You wouldn’t think His eyes would shine so bright Beneath those clouds that fog his sight But they’ve been aglow since ‘25 You wouldn’t think he would be so kind
I've heard people speak of angels Some describe their features as such They are young women Beautiful, youthful, pure, and fair They adorn shining halos and silky soft wings
I met you at the nursing home, T’was Bingo we were to play, You brightened as we entered, as I asked about your day.
Dear Older Woman in the Grocery Store, I am your cashier. I scan your cookies, your cakes, your medications; I make polite conversation, delicately choosing my words As you delicately chose and scribbled each item
10/6/16 My Dearest Grandson, I know that writing letters may be relics of the past, and sending emails online are more convenient and fast, but I couldn't help but write one since I have your new address,
The crevices on his face told a story, It spoke of his failures and glory. The lines around his mouth told of laughter. His ring promised forever after. His breathe was slow and silent.
Their eyes weep
Imagine the time that you used to be able to remember. You have to imagine, because you can no longer grasp that memory. The feeling of something almost there, torments you.
Ive never seen a women with hair so fair. Wrinkled skin but she wears Chanel. 92 with looks of 62. She's great. Warm Heart like her favorite blueberry muffin. Devastated by loneliness...
Mammy Gas’s old age is showing Her steps unsteady, trembling fingers I look at her; it’s difficult knowing Very little strength within her lingers
The phone rings No one is there. The door opens "Hello!" Cookies baking No one likes the dot-dots. The computer is on Internet surfing commences. Over the walkie
The sloth moves slowly, like an old man waking up. Nature's elderly
How naive are we to believe that the civil rights movement is over? Is it because we can all vote for our presidents? Because no black man has to fear a master, running away from the screams?