The sum of years race past her eyes
Faces, places, loved, despised
Tender feelings, broken hearts
Lies unspoken, well played parts
All collected in this glass
With amber liquid mixed, alas
The burning feeling has begun
Her thoughts caress what she has done
On her cheek, a single tear
Her vision blurred, but her mind clear
Prepared to leave it all behind
There, in a glass, a life defined
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About oldmainer
I am a retired manager living in Southern Maine and a would be writer of poetry, narratives, short stories, and random opinions, and that's how Oldmainer was born. Recently, I decided to try an experiment. I added photography to the mix, using only a cheap cell phone with a limited camera and the editing software that came with it, and added the blog site Inklings at poormanspoet.wordpress.com to showcase the results. So, feel free to use whatever you find interesting or worthy, but please honor the terms of my copyright when and if you do. They may not be much, but they are still a piece of me. I appreciate your checking me out and hope that you find something that will encourage a return visit. Thanks for stopping by.
Ink lings 
Beautiful
Reblogged this on Ink lings.
So very tragic, the story of too many.
Thank you,through selfless sharing of ideas, thoughts and experiences that will make our world a better place to live. Thank you and hope that you will enjoy what I posted and post. Thanks again!