Pop

He was grey, he was old

And through the lines on his face

Pop's story was told

Spotted with age and his hands bony thin

All of life’s story was written on him

And in a mind etched with memories still sharp

He has no room for tears in his eyes

While love beats his heart

In the morning on his porch  you'll see him
He sits all alone

With tea in a cup he’ll fondle his phone

It rings and he answers time and again

A smile writes a crease across his lips
And, it's hello old friend

He shuffles, he snuffles and sometimes he creaks

No time to grumble about his pain that he'll speak

It's time to catch up with old friends
And that's all that he seeks

And in the morning, you’ll see him
After a quarter to ten

Answering the phone, yep, he's out there again

He’ll be sippin' his tea and phoning a friend

He’s laughing and snorting his morning away

Old men jousting with another story to tell
And I admire the way

Pop and his friends are denying Death
And their passport to hell

Another day has gone by and little was done

And now the sink overflows with dishes to do

It might be tomorrow before he gets 'round to them too

Another day filled with laughing and lying and all of it fun
He looks back on his life with some sadness and sun

Is he lonely you ask and in a while he'll answer
He thinks that he might
Then he gets into bed, kisses her photo

And turns out the light