He was a funny looking man His wrinkles told of stories long ago Of how he walked ten miles To school in the snow And of the war he fought With just one hand And helping little kids To help them understand He learned from his mistakes And the world learned too For he tought them right from wrong He showed them what to do But now his wrinkles know no stories They only tell of years And his once innocent blue eyes Glitter from the tears He knows his time is about up And he forgets many a thing He just lies in bed all day Just wondering Wondering if his liffe was worth What people said it was A dime, a nickel maybe Maybe just a penny because He is no use Just old news to report But made him change his mind As a young child stepped forth He put his small hand Upon the wrinkled bones And sang to that old man About stories long ago The old man listened To the old stories which he could relate And the small hand brushed across The tear that ran down his face This went on for many a day And finally the old man knew Why he was sent upon this earth What he was supposed to do And once again the wrinkles Turned into stories of long ago And every time he saw that child His face seemed to glow Now this man was history And yet so much more And he lived to tell just a little bit About so much more That litttle kid was his savior He was a hero indeed And he lived to tell stories too About the old man's deeds.
Reason for writing:
This poem is about a special bond between an old guy and a young child. Tell me what you think
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