Old Pals
They sat on the steps of an old porch floor,
Two buddies of so long ago.
And spoke of their life and the years before
When time was no threatening blow.
Tear filled my eyes as I saw them there,
So sad they couldn’t be me.
With so many things to do in my life
And many years left just for me.
I wondered why there were no tears
From two old men with so few years.
On each weathered face was a special smile,
I decided to stay, to listen a while.
They spoke of their youth, of skipping school
To fish in old man Chaney’s pool.
And vowed if one was ever caught,
To say they did and the other did not.
One laughed as he spoke of a girl he once knew
Who frowned when his pal had to come along too.
She told him he’s better make up his mind
And he took his dear pal and left her behind.
Their wives, their children, the bad times, the good.
They spoke of them all, then the old buddies stood
And helped each other down the stairs,
Seeming to have no worries or cares.
I watched them walk beyond my sight
And at that moment knew
What memories mean, so long old pals,
I’ve got some living to do.
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