Old Man On A Bench
Made me jump.
I thought he was a statue;
Just sitting there staring into time;
People reach that age where they become invisible;
Not fitting into social norms….
He was bolt upright.
Neck firmly against his collar;
Back ramrod straight;
No wonder I thought he was made of stone..
I was transfixed.
I wondered what his life had been;
What had he done?
What had bought him to here, now?
What could he teach us?
We used to revere age and experience;
Now we worship youth and stupidity;
Dignity is sadly a thing of the past;
The grey hair is often dyed, the wrinkles botoxed;
Many now ironically wear their arse fat on their lips…
Yet here was discipline;
Stillness, posture and focus;
Experience worn with grace;
Ready to pass away without passing on;
No-one stopping to learn.
Everyone has a story;
Something to teach;
Life’s scars give experience;
The aged have much to give;
But humanity has lost their ears.
Soon there will be a space.
No human statue on the bench;
Experience and knowledge yielded to the ether;
People dancing and Snapchatting;
Whilst another library burns to the ground.