Deep blue eyes suggest a life that was once glamorous.Not any more.A receding hairline disappoints him everytime he looks in the mirror.An ashtray lies beside him.Grizzled ashen gray face has more wrinkles that a recycled newspaper.His crooked nose reflects his career.The only relationships he ever has have been blown to pieces.So to many people this man was a mystery.An unsolved puzzle with a lost piece.The rotten porch creaks beneath his weight.Glamour had become a life of poverty.If you get close enough the stench of smoke becomes more detectable.Slathers of holes lay upon his clothes. Trousers ripped at the knee and scuffed at the bottom.The elastic is stretched as far as it can go.As the public walk by he sneers and makes unrepeatable hand gestures,repelling them even further.His misery is a disease.It infects the people that are close to him,until they are no more.The glory of war was too much for him.But the aftermath even more so.What a mystery.
This is a really great piece of writing. Great description. Maybe you could try explain a more simple description keeping the detail but maybe saying what colour his hair is or his skin colour.
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