He looked wise, and weather beaten
tired and lonley
he didnt belong on this busy street, with its crowds of people and screaming cars
i would bet he sailed the high seas at one time
a master of a sailing ship, who knew the waters of the world, and taste of salt on his cracked lips
a man who knew fear, but always conquered it
plain are the scars of age upon his brow
and the anger of being old
i wonder if he is content walking slowly down the streets with only memories?
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