My first poem - And first draft.
Sitting there,
Watching the world go by;
Staring out the window,
Despairing at the curse.
Loved ones long gone,
Swept away by winds beyond control;
Leaving one behind,
One waiting to be freed.
The fast, ever changing world,
Has no place for one of great wisdom;
No place to care for those who lived,
Knowledge forgotten.
One last friend do those people have,
The last friend they'll ever know;
The thing that will release them,
To join the ones they've lost.
When the friend comes calling,
And they take the last step;
No-one is there to say good-bye,
For they are already waiting.
