Lonely Old Man Poem by roman radman

Its late morning
The blinds were covering the rays of dreams
An old man with a wrinkled heart
Lying on a cloud

Morning meets the day
Day greets the night

The man sits up
Hides his face in his rough wet hands

He has no wife
He takes care of no children
No cat
No dog
Not a living soul about

He feeds off of attention
That is why he is so guant

Dazing at pictures that once were alive
Contemplating on weather it was him or not

Eating on his misery
He chokes
And sleeps...
Alone.