Everday,
he waits impatiently.
Not for danger, but for a friend.
He waits there,
a frozen sneer across his forever emotionless face
wanting to feel, to smile, to wak along the road he unblinkingly stares at.
Everyday,
he is trapped on that cold cruel pole
forced to experince the long winters without shelter-
during the summer, he excepts that scorging heat from cloudless days.
Battered coat, dry thin fingers slumped to the soil.
Torn hat from the brutal seasons.
He is old, but can never age.
He will never know what grandchildren are,
but will always watch that road for new faces to appear.
He waits, not for something to scare away,
but for someone to love.
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