The jukebox played,
The singer sang,
He sat there staring,
The telephone rang.
He did not stir,
His mind was far away,
Lost in a world,
From a yester day.
His wife had left,
The grown children too,
They had all moved on,
What was he to do?
For twenty three years,
He had played his part,
He felt so used,
Didn’t know where to start.
His dreams and plans,
They had all gone,
Where was his future?
He couldn’t see one.
The tears rolled down,
His face was red,
He picked up the gun.
Placed it against his head.
His hand was shaking,
Nothing to be said,
He pulled the trigger,
And he was dead.
The jukebox played,
The singer sang,
He lay there staring,
The telephone rang.