The Way To Dusty Death

The Way To Dusty Death By Elton Camp To guard every word isn’t good enough The angry, abuse words strike like clubs Why do YOU keeping doing this way! The shrill, accusing voice demands He didn’t know he was doing anything Except sitting quietly, afraid to speak Still, the tirade continues without letup He can only wait and hope it will abate Any move or gesture willfully twisted No allowance for age or declining health Words, words bitter, accusing, impatient What he did wrong, he doesn’t know The storm passes after a savage assault Leaving the old man dismayed and hurt Having but one certainty in his life This is how it continue to be until death Only then will the reviling be over Now beyond the reach of accusation