Old Man in the Snug

There he sat, tattered and worn;
hunched and deep lined by the burdens he'd borne.
A once youthful blossom now withered by neglect,
chocked by the smothering shame of promises not kept.
Tortured; knowing he'll never see his homeland again,
he mumbles as he drinks, quietly singing a mournful refrain.
He once roared like a mighty river through life; powerful and loud,
now he just lingers and drifts like a cloud.