The Old Man

I went to the park just to sit for a while
And escape the demands of the day
I saw an old man at one of the benches
On a tattered guitar he played

I gave little attention to his second hand clothes
Or the dental work he couldn’t afford
Instead I was captured by the joy on his face
As his tobacco stained fingers strummed chords

He didn’t seem to notice that I was watching him
As song after song he did strum
I thought, “This is a man who has a true gift
It’s a shame most people just see a bum”

What has he gone through, where has he been
That life would leave him in such a condition
Does anyone care about the talent he has
Enough to allow him one chance to audition

The sudden silence interrupts my thoughts
As I notice he’s looking at me
I give him a round of approving applause
“Oh play more, Sir won’t you please?”

He played another song or two
And asked me, “Why are you still here?
Nobody has wanted to hear my songs
For some fourteen-fifteen years

I was in a band, you know
We traveled all around the world
To concert halls and stadiums
And Lord, you should have seen the girls!”


He paused for a moment to remember
A toothless grin swept across his face
I waited as he enjoyed the memory
Of when he was in a higher place

“We thought we were invincible
We had it all, we used to say
Until one day, I’d had enough
And just decided to walk away

They went on to greater successes
And won many Grammy’s and awards
You’d know them if I said their name
But me, I guess I just got bored.

We’d play the same favorite songs
Night after endless, exhausting night
I wanted to create, and do something new
But I always lost that fight

I need my music to come from the soul
Not from some hit on the charts
It’s a way that I can communicate
And put some peace back in my heart

We all have some kind of escape
It could be sports, or God or chess
For me, it’s this old beat up guitar
I turn to when I get stressed

I’ll even bet that you have something
To make yourself and the Universe one
It calms you when you’re all knotted up
And comforts when the day is done”

I gave him a knowing smile
And watched him slowly nod his head
“If I had my guess, I’d say you’re a writer”
I felt my face turning bright beet red

He gave a hearty belly laugh
I couldn’t help it and chuckled too
As it subsided, I had to ask
“Please tell me how you knew?”


He said, “I noticed when you saw me,
You didn’t try to quickly leave
I knew you had an intelligent mind
To not cast judgment on what you first perceive

I know that I don’t look so good
And probably smell even worse
Some people think that I’m real scary
‘Go get a life,’ they’d rudely curse.

But you weren’t scared, and didn’t run
Instead, simply sat and observed
You noticed what so many ignored
And gave me the respect I deserved"

He picked up that old Martin
And played me one last song
I felt it reach to the core of my soul
As I softly hummed along

“I guess I should be moving on,” he said
As he put his guitar in the case
“Don’t you ever stop that writing, Girl
It makes the world a better place

I hope our visit made your day brighter
And I’m glad that you enjoyed my tunes
Now go on home and write me a poem
Of how you made this old man’s afternoon"

9/28/07