An old man,
A weathered tree,
Gripping the door
With his rind-like hand,
Barely able to stand.
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Bags under his eyes
Hint at the heavy burdens
He bears,
Too tired to cope
Standing all day long.
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A hollow ache in heart
echoes inside,
Fate too harsh
On souls who just bide,
Seeking a reason
To feel alive.
Marian de Silva