The Old and the Young
Callused hands and withered faces
Found in the loneliest of places
Their life dedicated for all of us
Their hearts full of their pure love
And how do we repay them? We leave them to die
We're far too busy in our own lives
We move on, walk on, we choose to forget
Too occupied to go back for those we've left.
They're mentally decaying,
They're aging and graying
But we don't hear what they're saying.
When they're gone we don't get a second chance
These brief moments don't last
So catch them and cling to them, don't let them go
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