Mrs. McNeil sits like a poetic statue on her porch each day.
Always carrying a friendly face.
Old cotton dress as timeless as style itself.
Gray hairs of wisdom that speak of days gone by.

Tender old woman so out of place within changing times.

Mrs. McNeil sits like a poetic statue on her porch each day.
She has watched the world slowly change like a moth in a flame.
The drugs, the crime, and deaths each day.
Children dying in the streets while waiting on a change.
Still who would care?


Tender old woman so out of place within changing times.

Mrs. McNeil sits like a poetic statue on her porch each day.
Tender hearted woman waiting for a better change.
Old faded dress that has seen better days.
Still so sad to say, but Mrs. McNeil has been dead for several days.
Still who would care?

Tender old woman so out of place within changing times.

Mrs. McNeil sits like a poetic statue on her porch each day.
Still so sad to say, but Mrs. McNeil has been dead for several days.
There sits her empty chair a testimony of her life.
A virtue of patience waiting for changes that may never come.
Still who would care?

nice

Well done!!

This is an AWESOME write...Thank you for sharing

Thanks all...

Reading this I was reminded of the book, "To Kill a Mockingbird"....nice sense of nostalgia here...