The
old man in the house
Across
the street I watch
Once
I heard he fell down
He
was in hospital for a while
The
weeks passed
He
still walks with a walking stick
He
isn't the same old man
He
has grown thin
Everyday
he will stand near his gate
Watching
the sun; watching people
Watching
the vehicles passing by
Sometimes
he smiles at the children
His
woman will leave him alone
With
his mad son for company
As
she goes out of the house
Return
late in the evening
Today
I see him staring at his wall
Looking
tired maybe get scolding from his wife
He
stands there for a while
Before
he walks away
Sometimes
I hear him talking to himself
The
same familiar sentence he will say
Though
I can't understand the words
I
guess he feels his time is nigh
His
mad son will scold him
Shouting
as usual on top of his voice
His
woman will nag at him occasionally
He
feels he isn't wanted in his house
But
the old man still stands
Everyday
near his gate watching
He
can stand for hours
Until
it is too hot to hang around
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