Where is the Man

Where is the man who stood so tall?

Who held my hand when I was small?

With bright blue eyes and a lovely smile

The man who walked for many a mile

Always smartly dressed in his Sunday best

So handsome he out shone the rest

Talking to everyone, he was well known

Fun and laughter were the seeds he’d sown

Year gone by now he he’s just a shell

Old age and disease has begun to tell

Now he walks with a shuffle

Bent in two, almost double

Where is the man who walked to tall?

Sat in his chair he seems so small

The occasional glimpse I still can see

Of the man he used to be

Old age comes to us all, I know

We come into this world and live and grow

But life seems cruel and makes me sad

When I look at the man who is my Dad.

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