And then....... he grew old.
And then....... he grew old.
Come all you young fellahs...you smooth talking guys
And take one more look at this man you despise
As you mock and you sneer and you call him a wimp
‘Cos his clothes are worn out and he walks with a limp.
Only bits of old string keep the boots on his feet
As he painfully bends for the scraps in the street
See the lines on his face and his old stubbled chin...
They still bear the scars that he carries within.
Yeah, c’mon you boys, you can laugh all you like.
When you’re riding the waves.. or your skateboard, or bike
Remember the price of the freedom you know
Has been paid by the man that you ridicule so.
That grey-haired old-timer was once young and strong
And he knew what was right, and he knew what was wrong.
There’d be stars in your eyes, there’d be sweat on your brow
If you spoke to him then as you speak to him now.
But the years are not kindly, they come and they go
And the cruel winds of time take their toll as they blow
Through the memories of battle, the dark halls of war
Where he still sees his mates being shot by the score.
He has not known a wife for these past twenty years
And his medals were pawned for his housing arrears.
Now he just bums along doing all that he can
For the lost and the outcast are his fellow man.
As the nightmare returns with his daily routine
So his mind wanders back to the places he’s been.
Then he re-lives the hell and the horrors once more
Now he wonders if you were all worth fighting for.
So lads, when you see some old man in the street
And he’s limping along with old boots on his feet
Just show some respect, for he’s worth more than gold
He fought for your freedom.... and then he grew old.
Rod Walford
And take one more look at this man you despise
As you mock and you sneer and you call him a wimp
‘Cos his clothes are worn out and he walks with a limp.
Only bits of old string keep the boots on his feet
As he painfully bends for the scraps in the street
See the lines on his face and his old stubbled chin...
They still bear the scars that he carries within.
Yeah, c’mon you boys, you can laugh all you like.
When you’re riding the waves.. or your skateboard, or bike
Remember the price of the freedom you know
Has been paid by the man that you ridicule so.
That grey-haired old-timer was once young and strong
And he knew what was right, and he knew what was wrong.
There’d be stars in your eyes, there’d be sweat on your brow
If you spoke to him then as you speak to him now.
But the years are not kindly, they come and they go
And the cruel winds of time take their toll as they blow
Through the memories of battle, the dark halls of war
Where he still sees his mates being shot by the score.
He has not known a wife for these past twenty years
And his medals were pawned for his housing arrears.
Now he just bums along doing all that he can
For the lost and the outcast are his fellow man.
As the nightmare returns with his daily routine
So his mind wanders back to the places he’s been.
Then he re-lives the hell and the horrors once more
Now he wonders if you were all worth fighting for.
So lads, when you see some old man in the street
And he’s limping along with old boots on his feet
Just show some respect, for he’s worth more than gold
He fought for your freedom.... and then he grew old.
Rod Walford
Re: And then....... he grew old.
thanks Rod how true it is.
bill the old battler
bill the old battler
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Re: And then....... he grew old.
G/day Rod
A really good poem, well written and with lots of feeling.
I really enjoyed reading it - thanks for sharing.
Cheers Terry
A really good poem, well written and with lots of feeling.
I really enjoyed reading it - thanks for sharing.
Cheers Terry
- Maureen K Clifford
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Re: And then....... he grew old.
That's a great poem Rod, I really like it and it flows beautifully. Sad that is has such an element of truth to it 

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I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
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Re: And then....... he grew old.
Top poem Rod. I think it would make a great song!
- Irene
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- Location: Jurien Bay. WA
- Contact:
Re: And then....... he grew old.
Absolutely beautiful Rod - the type of poem I love to read!!
So much truth, and so sad that there is such disrespect from many towards out elderly and disadvantaged.
Thanks for sharing
catchya
Irene
So much truth, and so sad that there is such disrespect from many towards out elderly and disadvantaged.
Thanks for sharing
catchya
Irene
What goes around, comes around.
- keats
- Posts: 1045
- Joined: Thu Nov 11, 2010 11:43 pm
Re: And then....... he grew old.
Great poem mate. First time I read it I almost sung it to the tune of The Times Are A'Changing by Bob Dylan. Flows great. Well done.
Re: And then....... he grew old.
As I recall that was the exact song I had going on in my head when I started writing that one! Always been a Dylan fan - well his early songs anyway. That what I like about being around other rhyming poets - they know stuff!keats wrote:Great poem mate. First time I read it I almost sung it to the tune of The Times Are A'Changing by Bob Dylan. Flows great. Well done.
Re: And then....... he grew old.
Cheers mate - thanks!matt wrote:a pleasure to drift on such an easy flow of words Rod
thanks and welcome

Re: And then....... he grew old.
A reminder that everyone was young once. Much enjoyed your poem Rod.
Heather
Heather
