Almost Free Poem by Richard Wlodarski

The old man's weathered face glared at him
From out of the antique oak mirror
Each wrinkle a reminder of pain endured
Over a lifetime of war and misery
The mirror was his worst enemy
Forever reminding him that his battle was not won

His eyes searched out his soul
In the antiquity of glass and wood
Only to find the dread of loneliness
His heart aching for a new love
Still broken from unrequited love
Could not endure this suffering life

The old man cursed for he could not cry
The tears would have washed away his anguish
He tried praying but God was far too busy
He tried dying but his time hadn't yet come

So the old man glared at the antique oak mirror
And what he saw bewildered him
The wrinkled face was now smiling at him
Reminding him that he had weathered the worst of storms
And that the remainder of his life will be almost free