The Old Man & His Picture by Richard Martin 238 Poem, by Richard Martin, at My poetic side

The Old Man And His Picture by Richard Martin 238

There’s an old faded picture in his hand,

Its edges are worn cracked and dry.

He’s held it close a million times now,

and a million teardrops he’s cried.

The picture showed it was old now,

I guess she’d be about his age.

And you could see how much he loved her,

and the awful price he paid.

The picture showed a sweet young girl,

so lovely with long golden hair.

But an old gray-haired man holds it,

And whispers sweetheart I still care.

It’s been a long time since she left me,

but tears still fill my eyes.

And sometimes I miss her so much,

that I wish I could die.

The picture is all I have left now,

there’s nothing left to hold on to.

Mr. please burry this picture with me,

Mr. please I leave it with you.

His last words were sweetheart I love you,

and I know that I’m to blame.

I’m sorry that I hurt you,

and that I brought you shame,

We buried that old picture with him,

but he never spoke her name.

She was all that he talked about,

but he never said her name.

Comments +

arqios October 30th, 2023 07:31
To not be able to name the object of affection; that fathoms the depth of this sadness.
Thomas W Case October 30th, 2023 07:54
Fantastic writing. Very sad.
2781 October 30th, 2023 08:06
Call me sceptical, my mind seems to go to the sinister.

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