Sunday, 24 August 2014

Old Jack

These days, he sits in an old chair

Alone and inclined to stare
When people come in
He's got nothing to bring

Radios don't talk to him 
Nor do televisions befriend
Because he likes to think back
To when he was alright Jack

They all say he's gone
But he's there, the one place
Where he always did care
Sat down with his lady, Claire

By James Bickle

If you enjoy the poems, my top ten hit book 'Collected Poems' is available at Amazon in print and Kindle.