The Loneliest Man In The World Poem by Denis Martindale

The Loneliest Man In The World



Almost sixty, just weeks to go,
Yes, less than twenty days
And only God above to know
Of how the future plays...
As time flies by, the hours fade
Like sunshine clear and bright,
Surrendering, yet unafraid,
Like all to sacred night...

The year has almost run its course,
October greets me now
And with its coldness I close doors,
Conserving heat somehow...
It seems my heart is double-glazed
Just like the window panes,
Such that for grace the Lord is praised,
For benefits and gains...

Almost sixty, just weeks then done,
Outliving Mum and Dad
And even then, their younger son,
The brother I once had...
At home, alone for every day,
No other voice is heard,
At home, alone yet here I pray,
Despite what has occurred...

How long I'll live, the Lord must choose
For He holds centre stage,
Till then I'll preach my points of views
As if within this cage...
This house called home where no wife smiles,
This place where no child laughs,
Is where my heart still reconciles
My choices and my paths...


Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.

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