On a pillow of paper memories
He rests his head in slumber
As he hears the wind whisper
‘An old man weeps, an old man bleeds
To harvest love he’d sowed the seeds
Blood and tears for the nothing years
When nothing grew but thorns and weeds’
He awakens at the table
And he sees the faded mail
His mind swoops back in time
A padded cell, a racking wail
‘He was ever my true friend
‘Til that awful twist of fate
As infamy and madness
Left him in a sorry state
His spirit had been broken
And by then it was too late’
He feels teardrops in his eyes
As he sniffs the perfumed sheet
His mind swoops back in time
A wedding gown, a bridal suite
And to an orchestra of love
We did dance and celebrate
A symphony of gladness
With an undertone of hate
When I heard the requiem
I realised it was too late’
His eyes narrow as he sees
The buff envelope still sealed
His mind swoops back in time
A muddy trench, a foreign field
‘We took arms and went to war
With our cause to vindicate
An infantry of brashness
And a brotherhood of fate
We went on to face defeat
And by then it was too late’
He shoves aside the paper
A splinter spears his thumb
His mind goes back in time
A lonely boy, a dismal slum
‘This was my living hell
Beneath that cellar grate
An infancy of sadness
With naught to mitigate
I went on to cherish freedom
But by then it was too late’
On the pebbled floor he sees
A stain of blood and tears
His mind drifts back in time
Faceless people, wasted years
‘And such has been my life
In which I struggled to relate
An epiphany of darkness
My ideals did decimate
I should have done much more
But by now its far too late’
And he rests his head in slumber
As he hears the wind whisper
‘Old men bleed and old men cry
They fear the time that’s passing by
Blood and tears for the living years
When living dreams fade out and die’
On a pillow of paper memories

My Gran's wonderful furry companion Francis