A short poem

Hey guys. You should all know by now, when I'm procrastinating I write poetry, so here a poem I wrote:

Tis a tad dark.

Fulfilment

He walks a slow yet steady walk,
A definite and determined pace.
He does not know where he goes,
But knows he must find his place.

Legs tired from a lifetimes use,
Hands on his walking cane,
Mind failing cause of past abuse,
He hobbles in his old frame.

He reviews his life with every step,
Judges his praise and is pain.
He won't turn round, or look back,
He's not planning to come back again.

He trips and falls on a root unseen,
A curse hidden under his breath,
He walks the rest of the way with his mind,
And continues on to death.