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Word Count: 361
As the dark figures enlarge through the thick fogSlowly paced and soggy footed he arrivesHe is unable to speak or think straightAs he slowly lowers his head something catches his eyeThe flowers he and his wife planted along their fenceHe could still remember the aching pain of his sore middle aged backThe smell of his wifes worn out one-size-too-small gloves as he took them off for herAnd watching the huge red sunset as they held each other in their aching armsFrom that day on he knew she was the oneThat was a beautiful day he thoughtA loud morn awakens him from his daydreamHe forgets where he is for a while but soon remembersHe still cannot believe what is happening Still with his head down he is afraidHe had not accomplished what he had plannedAs the man with the white collar speaks he looks upStill somewhat sceptical of the spectacleHe is afraid of what he might hearStill with his confidence he awaitsAwaits for the name of inevitabilityA name which he remembers to have known his whole life A name which he stood by through thick and thinHe wants to feel sad but is curiousYou know the ones in the black packIm going out Ill buy this thing tHE oLD mAN wHO sCARED mE wHEN i wAS lITTLEWith my mom by my side by the wayI slid down slides and played on swingsEvery time I played with those thingsHe had skin that seemed like brown construction paperHe seemed so helpless wearing that old man hatAnd that red flannel shirt that made him look fatI wondered what he was doing thereI wondered what was going through his mindSlowly gaining on me like a tiger on its preyI could stand no more so I had to say We stopped running and turned to each otherRed now replaced his brown paper faceWith sweat pouring down his cheek he said to meIn a race you would win
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