By Alycia
No one knows who he is
Nor from where that he came
They only see his habits
In a childish way.
They Only see a clownish man
Dreaming of Fantasies
They do not see him as a man
But rather an Oddity
But I have seen this old man
When he was all alone
And I know of things that
Others could not know.
They do not see that his body bent
Nor that his Hands are blister torn
They don't the silent tears
He cries when he's alone.
I've a sadness withen him
Eating his insides
I see one who tired of living alone
But too scared to follow his Death
He has a secret that which no one knows
Nor probally ever will
Since no one takes the time
To ask him how he is.
I know of one who sits alone
In the corner of an old bar
Spinning tales
Drowning Ale
A Lost, Forgotten Soul.