The Old Man Poem by John F. McCullagh

The Old Man



Nothing lasts forever without ceasing.
For every laugh, somewhere a tear drops down.
When you lose someone your steps feel so uncertain.
No longer do you trust the solid ground.
For so it chances in the lives of men
That day comes when their fathers go before.
The flesh and blood becomes a ghostly presence.
The veil has dropped between them ever more.
When dialogues becomes soliloquies,
The things you meant to say mean that much more
because they will forever stay unspoken
save to his stone in moments spend alone.

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