He sits down with his own cup of tea
And waits by the stall for the afternoon train
The autumn winds wail like a lone wolf’s cry
And takes him back to a small-town lane
His eyes grow weary, his fingers grow frail
The tea tastes sour like tears in his eyes
An old man’s pride is buried deep down
Down in the ocean, way up in the skies
The afternoon train – it whistles and it screams
He rubs his eyes and prays he would find
A face that he knew, was once so dear
A face that he lost in whirls of time
The train pulls away while he stands by
With smoke in his eyes so full of regret
Sitting by the stall he dwells in the days
Lord, those times he never can forget
His thoughts grow dim each passing day
But he still yearns for dreams foregone
An old memory just fading like the sun
But song in his heart, it still carries on
As I pass him by he cries out loud
“Love’s not a veil, oh boy show it all
I didn’t know so she went away
So, I’ll live and die here by the stall”
Then he sits down with his own cup of tea
Every now and then watches trains go by
Oh my love, I sing just for thee
Holding his tears, he sings with a sigh
Lo! now I know why raindrops fall
A soul in regret can make heavens cry.
Gautam Dhar
21 November 2005
Lansing MI