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Friday, August 12, 2016

The Old Man

By A. Lawrence Vaincourt

His shoulders are stooped and his hair's getting thin
And he can't move as fast as he did
But he was the guy who stood seven feet tall
When you were a little kid
In a world full of terrors you always felt safe
Long as you had hold of his hand
Back then he was Papa or Daddy Or Dad
But now he is just the old man
Remember thee guy who excused your misdeeds
By saying that "Boys will be boys"
Who painted your bike and patched your skinned knees
And repaired all your broken down toys
Remember the guy on whose shoulders you sat
So that you could look over the crowd
Now don't be ashamed if he tells a tale twice
Just say "He's my Dad" and be proud
There's the time you went camping and he taught you to fish
That summer when you were a lad
And y slept 'neath the stars that night, by a stream
Just you and your best friend your Dad
When the hugs that he gave you when you were a child
Were replaced by the clasp of a hand
You knew that he loved you not one bit less
He was still there, he was your old man
And although there were times when you might disagree
You knew he would still back your stand
For when push came to shove he was always right there
In your corner, there stood the old man
But now you've outshone all the things that he's done
Now you are the one who stands straight and tall
While he's stooped and failing in health
So take him to lunch and buy him a beer
And call him whenever you can
Who knows if he'll even be with you next year
And remember, he is The Old Man.

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