Filling Holes Poem by Smoky Hoss

A very old man
Walks slowly out of Sam's,
Leaning on a squeaking cart
Filled with so many non-essentials.
Why has he come here today?
What was he really looking for?
What, in all these items
Was he truly hoping to buy?
Perhaps, twas filling...
Something to fill the endless hole,
Of being old, and alone... who can say.

I will look for him again.
Another day.
I will try to say hello... and fill a bit of the hole with a smile...
... next time.