Sorrowing Old Man, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

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Sorrowing Old Man, Robert A Sieczkiewicz

It is oh so often I think of you
But not as sure the meaning of the hue.
Many times they appear to be of blue
And yet not sure if my thoughts be so true.

Daily I am struggling with unsure mind
Puts me in jeopardy to be unkind
As search as I may of a word to find
For though I see, be known my mind is blind.

Frequently to forget you it behoove
My mind would soon be ready to improve.
You from my mind not easy to remove
Only to create such a lonely groove.

Each day now we are alone together
Should be so bold to command comether.

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