the cracks in your desert weathered face,
home to a thousand thoughts and memories,
from a time and a place,
long lost to the generals of time.
weak, whispered words,
whistle through your well used teeth,
and underneath the purple war paint,
a face of a modern mortal saint.
with thin grey cotton hair,
and a peramant dent in your
beloved arm chair,
a seasoned soul
do not rest those tired eyes just
yet my grand old love.
for the world still needs,
your smile.
Not Long Left
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-pointless-poem-for-you-are-gone/
