There was once an old man who lived in the corner
of Seventy-Fourth and Spring.
Quiet and pale, he kept to himself,
and to no one did he say a thing.
‘Curious old fella’, that’s what they said,
the people of the town about him.
And after some time and years gone by,
They stopped trying talking to him.
One Sunday morning as he walked through the market,
(Briskly and eyes on the floor)
he spotted a madman laughing and talking
to nobody but himself.
“Oh why am I here, who are they there,
I wish I could be with the stars,”
Something about those cryptic words said,
struck deep in the heart of the man.
Without buying his vegetables nor other foods,
he turned round and walked quick back home.
For one whole week his door not once creaked,
and people thought the old man had died!
But on the next Monday,
a beautiful Monday,
He stepped out all shaved and clean.
Neatly pressed clothes and hair nicely combed,
he wore the most magnificent of smiles.
“Good morning young man!”
said he to the milkman,
whose shock was scarcely hid.
And finally when words found their way
once more, to his mouth, so did he speak.
“Good sir! I say, ’tis a delight!
I’ve never seen you so happy!
And for the first time I hear your voice,
and God, do you sound merry!
What happened good sir,
why change you now, when all this time,
you never smiled, and always were silent and moody?”
“Ah young man, ’tis curious indeed,
but answer your question I will.
‘Twas sad and wasteful, oh how regretful…
…That I had forgot how to live.”
With his smile still wide and a tear in his eye,
went the old man to the market.
We hope you had not forgot
that he still had to buy his groceries!

But more than that, and in his heart,
was a thanks he needed to give.
And who be it for, but the madman he saw,
who had reminded him of what he missed…


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