Her eyes,
They told a million stories
in just the seconds I saw her
driving past on my nightly run
Her age,
I could tell by her face
she had met a million liars
and I was just another one
Her smile,
I don't think I recall it
perhaps it wasn't there
wiped away by the sun
She squinted,
The ending day forced
a reflex into her addled brain
the car ride was no more fun
She rode,
As the lady drove her past
I could tell that she saw something
but it might have just been the sun
She's gone,
Tonight as she crawls into bed
she wonders if it will be her last
those thoughts come when you're 81
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