The Old Man

I sat down and watched the other day, At an old man in a booth across the way. This old man looked lost and wasn't there, As he sat and cried,he ran his fingers through his hair. I walked over and asked to have a seat, He looked at me with sad eyes and defeat. He said"sure sit down and I'll tell ya a story or two, Because I was once a truck driver just like you. Yea I had the world in my pocket on my right hip, Somewhere I messed up,I stumbled and slipped. I came off the road one day,thought I had a good life, Came to an empty house,no children,no wife. Killed in a car wreck while I was running loads, Hit by a drunk on some ice covered roads. Did not have a chance to say anything,not even good-bye, When I found out,all I could do was cry. So I went back driven that ole rig, Hoping my time would come for that hole that they dig. Lived all these years with the sorrow and pain, All the money I saved could not hide the shame. So here I am in this ole truck stop, Suckin down coffee and shoo tin shop talk. Think about life and if money is what you need, You tend to miss a lot of things due to greed. I dropped my cigarette under the bench I was on, Picked it up,looked,and the ole man was gone. I realized right then and there, That was me sitting in that very chair.