Old And Homeless

by jaybird1

So oft he comes unto my door,
though bent and old he comes to mow
my lawn. He asks as oft before
again for water, nothing more.
His ways and manners oft times show

he thirsts for friendships, never near.
He's homeless now, companions few,
his wife, his kids no longer here
and all the things that he held dear
all gone, the good in life he knew.

I know that I should hear his cry,
should talk, bring comfort, fill his day,
forget the past, not wonder why.
Many could face this ere we die.
I'll let compassion lead the way.

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Recognized

Written in the traditional, simplistic style.
Trying to use the abaab meter that Robert
Frost used in many of his poems, such as
THE ROAD NOT TAKEN

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Bear with the old and homeless, they need you

Old And Homeless

by jaybird1

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