Why Do I Walk With Such Sadness?
Why do I walk with such sadness?
Why am I so tired and old?
Why does the non- beauty of many in the downtown crowd disturb me?
Am I so beautiful?
Why the sadness?
Why the tiredness?
Why so easily disturbed?
Old old old
Is not a picnic.
poem by Shalom Freedman

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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