She sits lonely on her park bench,
Feeding the birds some bread,
Today her tears are falling,
And she has the familiar ache in her head.
Her birds are her only friends,
Her husband is gone, her children grown,
They all have lives of their own now,
She cries as she remembers the love she'd known.
Love of other gentleman,
Perhaps she should have tried it with one,
For her life with her husband,
Helped her come undone.
The children are gone,
Only an occasional phone call,
She has no one who cares,
No one to help her if she falls.
She cries for love lost,
She cries with the pain of being alone,
She cries for so many possibilities,
At the time she didn't condone.
The bread is all gone now,
The birds they too leave her side,
She cries harder then,
Now she has no pride.
Passers by look on confusingly,
They are concerned but don't want to interfere,
She could be a mental or fruitcake,
Let's leave her alone and get out of here.
Don't think badly of the lady,
She is harmless enough,
She could be you
If the going gets rough.
I'll tell you a little secret though,
I have glimpsed into the future,
And the sad lonley little old lady,
She appears to be me.
Let your heart guide you. It whispers, so listen closely.
(Sovereign of the Spirit)
[This message has been edited by Isis (edited 01-22-2000).]