Old Man, Who No Longer Shits

What maketh spring is it not the light pooled in your eyes
That makes my fondness grow - I have seen you
A huddled shadow in an alleyway, looking back on shadows
Casting yourself on the ground to be trampled under foot
Like light and shadow often go unseen
As the unsurrendered unengaged go about their business
But each footfall crests, darkness where it strikes
Your footsteps have set me stricken, ill down to the core
My lungs an empty charred house collapsing with each breath
This metal bottle that supplies me with each breath
This mask clear plastic clouded and unclear
With the moisture of the breath that escapes
...My breath escapes...
My dry and hollowed form
And yes I've said I'm fond of you
It's the commonweal of shadows that has guided us
Each to each like lepers to a colony
Will you tend my colostomy -
Bag? Will you move my withered legs
In a puppet show of youth and health
An oldmost dead man sprinting in his chair
Sprinting away from resolution
I lived my prime in an age where cartoon men
Smoked peaceful rings into cartoon air
Yes, simpler times, to forget the Great Death
When there were no heralds crying victory
Only "it is over".