Sitting forlorn, a lonely Soul
A Barren Tree his friend
No one in the Park in this dark hour
The cold Breeze whistling away
Not fearing the Shadows of Life
Now left alone counting his years
No one to tend to him
His Life a daily struggle
Either he goes to an old Home
Where surely death will overcome him sooner
He chooses his path
Sitting on the Bench
Counting the Stars
Longing for some company
Not a passing Soul turning Heads
Surely this Life is cruel
image not my own
©nasreen
N