From the Vault

I recently cracked open a binder from back when I was in school. The following is one of the writings I found:

4-14-98

Arms are tight,
the skin aged,
his hair is grayed from the passing of years,
his shirt,
weathered,
missing buttons cause a flapping in the air
as he mossies past the vintage furniture store,
his head droops slightly,
keeping the sun from his darkened, leathery face,
his smoke black dress shoes have little sole left,
the cow hide is cracked,
but obviously comfortable as he shuffles over the
sparkling sidewalk.