"What are you doing?" I asked.
The old man never looked up
Or batted an eye as he spoke.
"Nothin' much, just killin' time."
My nod of affirmation ignored,
I quietly walked away.
One would think a man of his years
Would hold a better grip on reality.
How many days of waste
Had this old fool seen?
Killing an enemy that will not die
And lulls you into complacency
In the hands of time
Is held the shovel
That will cover us all
In our graves.Copyright © 2007 Mike Lawson
