Staring into booze clouded memory
seeking past days lost in obscurity
with eyes blank as dawn's grey fog,

his face etched and soiled
framed by lifeless matted hair,
each line a scar from long ago,

an old book yellowed and faded
telling a story of unfulfilled promises
every line written by a cruel hand.

He sits motionless, patient, waiting:
no more tears no more pain
only an invisible fading shadow.

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