Like an old man

Text:

© Joan Lli
https://www.fr.wikiloops.com/forum/viewthread.php?thread_id=4132

I see again the country roads winding through green meadows,
The small houses along the roadside.
Sitting on a chair,
An old man rests his head on the tops of his hands,
Which wrap around the handle of his cane.

Is he dreaming of his past?

Listen and feel the wind pushing you,
The smells enveloping you,
And your friends loving you.

Like a child who refuses to go down the slide,
My feet and hands are not enough to hold me back.
The slope is too steep,
And I will end up touching the ground.

The small houses have become towers,
The river no longer has fish,
The meadows no longer have flowers or insects.
The old man and his memories are gone.

Night falls on the road,
The wind becomes cold and the smells harsh.

Do my friends still love me?