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.
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