Ninety Years
You see him at the store sometimes
He doesn’t walk too fast
His stride has slowed throughout the years
He slowly moves on past
The hair upon his head is white
If there’s any there at all
He may be stooped or bent a bit
A cane so he won’t fall
He smiles but you don’t know his name
He waves a weathered hand
You might smile back and say hello
There goes a nice old man
What you don’t see beyond his face
His life of ninety years
The wife he met the kids he’s raised
The joys and work and tears
The letters won for high schools sports
The girls he used to date
The time his father grounded him
For coming home too late
The war he fought for freedom’s sake
Tales too hard to speak
The friends he lost the wounds he bore
The tears upon his cheeks
The job he worked for forty years
That kept his family fed
The home he built with his two hands
The church group that he led
Time and youth have slipped away
His mind is not as clear
His friends have mostly left this earth
He’s lost his wife so dear.
When next you see an aged gent
Who passes through your day
There’s more to him than leathered skin
There’s much that he could say
He doesn’t want your sympathy
Nor pity could he stand
Don’t treat him like a feeble child
Approach him as a man.
He still remembers all he’s done
He hasn’t lost his pride
Respect his years for you’ll be there
And know his heart inside
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