The Old Pensioner Poem by Vincent Onyeche

Funny how the seconds hand climbs and fall

In the house of the old pensioner who sits by the wall.

Looking wishy-washy and grey, granddad he’s called

Holding in the highest regard,

Teeth of wisdom and Tangs of old

Eyeglass beneath the nose, eyes espying through to the papers he reads,

Listening to old good music and reminiscing on old good days.

The bright colors seems offensive to his look, recent hi-tech he fails to use.