An Old Man

An old man sat in his chair with the flickering TV's blue glare
The light hurt his eyes but the sound was like someone was there
The blanket he pulled to his chin the fibers felt course on his skin
Well, he kept the heat high, but it always felt cold to him

Tired he'll just rest his eyes for a while
Head tilted back, Jaw fallen slack
Achy, he'll just rest his feet for a while
The varying depth of his lengthening breath

Lightly tremoring hands tightly gripping the pan
He's not used to the work, but he's doing the best that he can
Set the table and pray. They always did it this way
And he never said much, now alone he has so much to say

The old man leans back in his chair and he sighs
The click of the plate as the silverware scrapes
Absently leans on his elbows and sighs
He ate what he can, but the flavor is bland

Now he has trouble sleeping at night. He just can't get the temperature right
And he'll toss and he'll turn and he'll pace till the dull morning light
So the old man sits in his chair with the flickering TV's blue glare
The light hurt his eyes, but the sound was like no one was there

Head tilted back. Jaw fallen slack
The varying depth of his lengthening breath