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Some are widows, some widowers
or stuck in marriages gone stale
others outlived all their friends
living in a world gone pale.

Most have faces etched by time
with hair of white or gone away.
They are there if one just looks
as they sit with little left to say.

Even when within a crowd
of people they purport to know
you'll notice that they don't say much
as they feel their isolation grow.

Their silence doesn't mean they're dense
indeed deep within their silent shell
often burns a near genius
longing to leave their private hell.

I know all about the lonely ones
all the ones you know and sometimes see
for all too often that isolated soul

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content
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I used to do a lot of sessions in retirement homes and what you have here is a very good description of so many residents. You could add much more to this as they are affected in so many ways, Still. a perceptive piece. Alex.

I kept having to fight off the urge to keep writing on this one but I'd decided before hand to keep it short. I' an pleased I captured the angst involved

author comment

Hello, Stan,
I agree that you've captured this loneliness. As I get older, I am clearly understanding how this happens so easily and so frequently.
Thank you,

Appreciate your dropping by

author comment

Congratulations scribbler on winning poem of the week a well deserved award. Ruby :)

Give and grow - let's raise our verses together. I'm happy to comment on your work and appreciate a comment on mine.

It came as a complete shock to me

author comment

A worthy win. Alex

I am pleased you think so

author comment

many years ago, I worked in a nursing homes as a hired companion for elderly ladies who had lost their husbands. I aided them in their ablutions, getting dressed and anything else they needed. we read and played cards and had long talks. they loved to talk and I loved hearing their tales of younger days. at a young age I learned to respect the elderly and was aware of their qualities.

I also saw, first-hand the lonely and forgotten ones quite literally withering away. waiting and hoping for a visitor.

Great Poem, Congratulations on the win!

*love, Cat

When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

I expect working in a nursing home is a sad thing as the old people slowly leave

author comment

Yes, it can be sad. I was a Nurse Educator working mostly in palliative care, but some of it is beautiful: meeting extraordinary people at the end of their lives, hearing the depth of their stories, holding them quietly.

Jenifer Jaspa James

Well done! What a great winner! Congratulations on this poem, Scribbler. You catch the essence of old age beautifully.

Jenifer Jaspa James

I appreciate your dropping by. Now if In could just escape the reality of getting old lol

author comment

Tough call, that one Scribbler. Cryogenics are the rage, but not for me! Enough will be enough.

Jenifer Jaspa James


It took me totally by surprise

author comment

What! Old age? Being born took me by surprise.

Jenifer Jaspa James

Old enough that my mind recalls what I used to do then my body says no way lol

author comment
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