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He sits there
lonely.
I walk into the room;
his eyes turn bright like the sun.
Then little tears stream down his face.

We sit and talk
His hair is messy
Clothes dirty
Old age is shadowing over his body.
No longer independent.
He sits there
Lonely.

He rests now
No longer lonely.
His spirit in the heavens
No more suffering.
He is free
Little tears stream down my face
My spirit broken.

I sit there lonely.
I miss you.





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