By Bob Dougherty
Local paper and I turn the page
obits hit me before I can look on
and a photo of a young person
grabs my eyes I mean 30 35 smiling
why why I scream silently as the obit
drags me in so curious so sad
damn this obit as I read on it's
all wrong 89 89 I feel lied to
that's not what the face in the photo
told me why where is the aged face
the life stories written on the visage
of time is there shame of life of looks
of age of wisdom traded away for an
unwritten slate thought more glamorous
89 and nothing on the face the face
the blank face stories yet to live deleted
leaving just the print in print by print
a thousand words but no picture
not the beauty of a complete life
why hide the lines scars and furrows
that tell the story written by life
on life of life for life to read in one glance
of life lived not typed in a thousand words
by a word processor
Local paper and I turn the page
obits hit me before I can look on
and a photo of a young person
grabs my eyes I mean 30 35 smiling
why why I scream silently as the obit
drags me in so curious so sad
damn this obit as I read on it's
all wrong 89 89 I feel lied to
that's not what the face in the photo
told me why where is the aged face
the life stories written on the visage
of time is there shame of life of looks
of age of wisdom traded away for an
unwritten slate thought more glamorous
89 and nothing on the face the face
the blank face stories yet to live deleted
leaving just the print in print by print
a thousand words but no picture
not the beauty of a complete life
why hide the lines scars and furrows
that tell the story written by life
on life of life for life to read in one glance
of life lived not typed in a thousand words
by a word processor