Sitting on the front porch
Old man in a rocking chair
Staring at the flat horizon
Waiting for the reaper's harvest.
He smokes gently from a pipe
While contemplating life.
Trying to remember good
And forget all his sins.
Silently begging for forgiveness
Sadness etched in his expression
The pain shows through
His weathered face.
He stands up slowly
Arthritis wreaking havoc,
He breathes in slowly
And gently sighs,
"I'm Sorry"
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