Loneliness and Laughter

I  found this poem today and gave it a bit of a polish. I have posted it as Pop before, but have changed the title today to bring it more in line with the message.
If anyone wants to play with the rhythm and the beat to make it work better, please feel free to have a go.  



He was grey, he was old

And in the lines on his face

His story is told

Spotted with age and hands bony thin

His life’s story is written on him

His mind still holds his memories so sharp

Has no time for tears

For love beats his heart

On his front porch he sits all alone

Black tea cools a cup and he’s holding the phone

It rings and he answers and answers again

A smile crosses his lips, and it's hello old friend

He shuffles, he snuffles and sometimes he creaks

Says there's no time to grumble, 
When it's friendship he seeks

He starts in the morning, at a quarter to ten

You'll see him each day
He's out there again

Humming while he’s dialling

And phoning a friend

He’s laughing because of
Another story to tell

A group of old friends
All denying their Gods or the Devil

Swift passage to heaven or hell

Another day’s passed 
He wanders inside and thinks of his day
He smiles because 
It doesn't matter that little was done

Everyone, laughing and lying

About deeds that they’d done

The sun's set and changed into night

Is he lonely you ask him
And he says that he might

But only after he kisses her photo
And turns off the light