What do you see
white-haired old man
judging or judged
probably thinking all sorts of things
Do you see jungles white-haired old man
do you see fire, destruction
death, unspeakable things that visit you in the nights
you can’t talk about or walk away from
but are always with you, buried deep
What cloud of stories surrounds you as you go about your day
watched by others
when once life and death were held in your hands
wondering if there’s a half-life to sorrow
and if you’ll find the peace you deserve
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