Wifes Face

The grass needs cut and the swing is too long,
and my shoes feel uncomfortable, some how something is wrong.
The door creeks ever time someone passes by,
if they would just ask I can tell them why.
The dog barks way to much and the cats always lays in the hall,
and every time I pass the little beast I fear I may fall.
I tire of the suns rays of light and the summer day,
I am just so confused at these new ways.
A computer sits where my pictures once were,
and in my mind I find my memories go hazy in a blur.
I am told to stop concerning your self with thing that young folk can do,
but some how I am lost, hoping to be found by you.
My hand stretches in my pocket for that photo of long ago,
and I sit at night hoping to be taken back to a more youthful show.
Your face is almost rubbed out and the background looks like a mess,
but through this small photo I feel your touch I must confess.
Gone but not forgotten my dear we had our time in the light,
but I wished now I was dead in lifes fight.
I know they mean well but I really want this to end,
maybe I should walk into that freeway just around the bend.

The mans eyes become closed and his hand rest on the chair,
and in his mind he sees a face in a joyful stare.
The man smiles for he has see this woman one time back,
and the man shuffles off his mortal coil because of a heart attack.
No turning back his shell he left here be buried or burn with grace,
for finally he dreams have come true of seeing his wifes face.