Forty MinuteTragedy
By C.S. Scotkin
The day started well enough,
a simple day, nothing rough
until the cell phone rang.
Extra case for you today.
“I don’t mind, sure, OK.’
“I’ll get there about nineâ€Â
Old man meets me at the door,
know I’ve seen these eyes before.
These raging . maddened eyes.
From his crazed tirade I shrink,
no escape from this, I think.
I can only let him rant.
Forty long minutes passed
raging rant had only masked
the fear and terror there.
Angry, he, at growing old
no longer can he control
his body, or his life.
Fearing death, he longs for death
of love for life, he is bereft.
he lets me hold his hand.
Fearful anger, angry fear
gone for now, they still are near,
they’ll never go away.
Much less angry now, these eyes
but still filled with fearful skies
that never once will rain.
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