Old Men (No One Knows

old men rust and creak,
in their bodies, in their souls;
wrinkle into their chairs
till neither is one....

having paid every penny
of the price of life,
rung up, and forgotten.....

shadows without purpose,
untouched in the cold.

every brick laid seamless,
without distinction,
or identity....

old men wrinkle into their chairs,
and no one knows.

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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