The Old Man

The Old Man, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The old man stood there silently affixed
On the shadow disappearing beyond the threshold
The door slowly closed, then came a thunder from the latch
He turned and went to a chair
Thought of what has happened
Looked around the room stopping at
The table that stood next to the chair.
Picks up the glass and takes a sip
Opens the small drawer
Pulls out a small bottle
Pops the cap, stares into the bottle
Tosses the contents to the back of his mouth
Takes another sip, then swallows
Puts his head back and closes his eyes.

1 thought on “The Old Man

  1. David Hansen

    I just spoke to a friend’s daughter who just wants to pop a pill so she no longer feels the pain. Very moving poem.


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