Poem of the Old Man

This poem is very dear to me. I'm glad I was able to write down such a poem that makes me feel different each time I read it while letting me know how I felt before. I hope it achieves something for the readers too. I've found this image on pinterest that pretty much fits the place I've imagined while writing this poem. Hope you enjoy.

As the hours slide by my side
On a delightful, cozy night
Slightest detail overwhelms me,
Curiosity of what I might find.

I slowly attempt to reach,
Over the shelf, I flinch.
Cold breeze swings through,
Doorbell rings out of the blue.

Who dares to come at my door,
I am an old man, must be left alone!
Grabbing my walking stick,
I swear this is some kind of trick.

Time the door is fully open
I shiver, my hands are frozen.
This better be good I raise my head mumbling,
A child appears; weakened, almost crawling.

We sit by the fireplace all night,
The child is lost, terrored by dark.
While I'm all ears, listening to his story,
I pity this young fella, named Rory.

So full of life, he tries to stay awake.
But the night falls, giving our eyes a break.
Suddenly I am bothered by the light of day,
Then I realize, the kid left right away.

Lifting my old body from a wooden chair,
I find a note, thanking me for sparing him a nightmare.
Smiling for the first time in years,
Despair of a child drowned me in tears.

When have I become such a cranky old man,
Lost like the child, left in my own land.
Remedy is what I await,
I will have it the day I can never leave my bed.