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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