this was written around a year back? so it's not the best because eh I feel it has places for improvement but .. uh? inspired by the old man at the hospital I'd met With white hair that swore wisdom— and crooked hands that proved exhaustive labor— and wrinkles that protested against the passing of time— and, a face battered— promising the beauty of aging, with clothes tattered— from constant use, he walked with his cane in renewed purpose his body urging him forward— to me, till he was afront; his smiling sleeping through the gruff walls— as he asked for directions, which I responded to, patiently, making him smile again; as he turned to leave, only to return by eve, with not a question in mind, but rather a grin pressed on rewind, a grin everlasting as he narrated a tale of time, which only increased [his smile] tenfold when he closed his eyes, telling me of the good ol' days, with no lies, bringing a smile on my face, in numerous ways, and once he had a fill— he lingered for quite a bit, till his time had neared it's end, but to me, truly it had never ended, for he had knit— a part of me none else had, or could, so even with the passing of days, did I often ponder over the old man, sending my blessings to him every day and night. to the possibility of us, one more time... pressed on rewind.
