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Forgotten Ones
by Shelby ©
You may see them as you pass by,
Sitting in their rocking chairs.
Waiting and looking,
To see if someone still cares.
They wait day after day,
Looking for a friend.
Maybe a loved one,
Might decide to drop in.
Their eyes grow dim,
The gleam no longer there.
Eyes that once held love,
Now empty and bare.
In its radiant glory,
Black, red, brown, and gold.
Their hair now of silver,
For they have grown old.
Many are so fragile,
In need of a soothing touch.
With the loss of mobility,
Their independence they given up.
Some have lost the capability,
Of comprehending.
There is confusion,
In the world around them.
Some of them paupers,
Some might of been kings.
Loss of dignity,
Age should never bring.
But life gets busy,
With work, family, and friends.
And the forgotten ones,
Are forgotten again.
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