Unloved

How old you look, left out here all alone!
Your “golden years” seem empty ones, at best.
The voices once rung out; the bright sun shone –
The days of usefulness and being blessed
Are gone, completely gone, with all the rest.
The wind, it blows the grass and clouds away,
As dormant in the field you’re doomed to stay

One thought on “Unloved

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