The Faded Man

free poetry
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On the bed a shadow of a man can still be seen,
If you squint enough,
And there is still enough.
They say he had it rough;
He won’t say anymore,
So they say it for him
While he watches the trains out the window.
Some look back at him,
but no one has seen him in years,
He used to cry they said,
But now he refuses the world his tears.
So they weep for him,
While he watches the ocean be pulled by the moon.


more by T. MAPLEY

photograph by Fré Sonneveld


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