In Words Unspoken...

An old man sits in a chair by the window,
Watching the grass grow,
Watching life pass right on by.
The chair creaks, the floors moan,
Silence reigns, loneliness has already moved in.

With no hands to bring any warmth,
He sits as a stone.
He sits and watches the summer,
Unable to reach out and touch it,
Paralyzed by nothing else but his own indifference.

Once upon a time, there was hope for something more,
With silence he has killed it,
With silence he has killed himself.
Unwilling to be vulnerable, unwilling to open up,
Has left him locked up inside, unable to break out.

An old man sits in a chair by the window,
Watching the grass curl up,
Watching the snow fall.
One tear falls from his brown eyes,
One word whispered in the pain.

And to think, things could have been different. . .