Lines on your face each one of trace the happiness
distance and sorrow.
Lonely he stand, weak are your hands,
old man with the fews tomorrow.
Memories gone, friends passed alone,
old man stand lost in your everies
Life has been kind, to give you this time,
to dream on strained as the wind blows.
People pass by no one their way
not wishing to engage conversation.
Youm, You know why? one
looking your eyes reminds them their time. It is waiting.
Hair on your head white as the snow,
old man stand and feeding the pigeons
