Man in the Leather Chair

Written by: Glen Enloe

Just a man in a leather chair
Is what it seems I have become—
Who once had dreams and far-flung schemes
And danced lightly into the sun.

I used to mock all those old men
Who watched the things that could not be—
Not dreaming then with all my gall,
That what I saw would soon be me.

Oh, youth’s a fine and fragile thing
That sets us through all our paces—
But watch time’s hand and try to stand
Before wrinkles gouge your faces.

So ride the more that leather chair
And dream of times too soon gone by—
We go from toys to simple joys
And too late see how years do fly.

Yes, know this now before you go:
Watch not the shade drain from your hair—
Hew life on the edge of a knife
Like the man in the leather chair.