PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The old man, crossing the road

Looks left, looks right

Looks back upon his life

The old man, crossing the road

Sees daylight, and no cars in sight

The road is black, and connects

East and West with a broken yellow line

The old man, who I might have known

Crosses the road to stop in the middle

For a flat coin that he left there long ago

The old man crsses the road

With a coin in his pocket, and returns to his youth

I follow the old man across the road

Only to stop halfway and stand

On the broken yellow line connecting

East with West

I pause to put down my coin

And then return to my life