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Array
(
[sid] => 156729
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Old man wayne
[time] => 2010-01-15 21:24:09
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => He sits in his house surrounded by woods Watches the birds feed and the squirrels chase He has been alone longer than his hands can count No one to bother; the phone seldom rings And when he answers the words are all the same This is his kingdom where his thoughts hold court Oh, but what is he waiting for? In winter there is snow to shovel In fall, leaves to rake In spring, seeds for planting In summer gardens to be tilling The seasons come and go And he is another year old Oh, but what is he waiting for? Once a week the paper comes The mail it is mostly junk and bills Every day the news comes on at six It is followed by re-runs and sitcoms Every night he goes to sleep And every day he surely wakes Oh, but what is he waiting for? He had family and friends Now he has a dog To sit by his side Never saying a word Company is like coffee Best served warm before it gets cold Oh, but what is he waiting for? A fire place in the corner Canned goods in a jar An easy chair rocked restless A table set for one The clock slowly ticks And tocks at what was Oh, but what is he waiting for? About twice a month He’ll drive to the store To stock up on food Supplies for cupboards getting bare He’ll say his hellos and say his goodbyes Pleasantries til he reaches the comfort of his door Oh, but what is he waiting for? Lost in days Days that he cannot get back Was it regret? A loss too great Numbers, words, dates and… It’s too much I forget Oh, but what is he waiting for? Then came the day The day that he died One night he is asleep From dreams he will not wake When the ambulance came He left his house for good Now what he is waiting for… Shall wait no more [comments] => 2 [counter] => 162 [topic] => 43 [informant] => zedwards [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 13 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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