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.