Last Grain

The older I get

 the less people to call

 is it by choice

 my spirit’s downfall?

 

The older I get

 the less then to care

 a life once so pointed

 now little to share

 

The older I get

 to never defend

 the ones that stood by me

 the ones I called friends

 

The older I get

 meat gone from the stew

 the faces just names

 of those I once knew

 

The older I get

 doors lock from within

 a constant reminder

 that blaming can sting

 

The older I get

 the less people to call

 no sand in the hourglass

   —last grain set to fall

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2014)

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