The Elderly

I'm not sure why but elderly people always seem to affect me. Usually it stirs a sadness in me that I can't quite trace the orgins of.

Today I saw an old man walking along, I passed him as he was drinking his coffee. It hit me all at once, the smell of the coffee, the wrinkles in his face and hands, and the feeble smile as we passed. I thought about the history he must have, the events he's lived through, the family, the lovers, the children. The stories he could tell.

Then I wonder if he's lonely, does he go home to someone equally as weathered, or is his life on it's last sprint and he retires home alone, to read the paper, watch the news, and go off to bed at 7pm, only to repeat the next day.

And that makes me cry.