The Writers' Circle

While walking through the park today
An old man, I did see
Dressed as if he were a bum
Sitting underneath a tree

Between his hands, he held a book
As he looked upon the ground
Mumbling something, to himself
Nobody else around

His hands and face of leather
Were weathered by the years
His eyes were filled with sadness
You could see a trace of tears

So I thought I'd walk on over
Say hello, nice day today
I saw you sitting all alone
Is everything ok

As I looked into his eyes
Some tears ran down his face
He looked at me, then smiled and said
The truth is hard to face

Today, I got a letter
Telling me, my son had died
He served his God and Country well
He served them both with pride

So I brought along my bible
I thought, that I'd just sit
I spoke to God, then said a prayer
And read a little bit

You know, it's not supposed to be 
At least we grow, to think
As parents, we should be the first 
Then children follow rank

Real life is hard to follow
And sometimes, yes it hurts
But given all my faith in God
It's faith that makes it work

I appreciate your gesture
As, most people wouldn't do
Because the way I look and dress
But, it didn't bother you

Therefore, I must say Thank You
From the bottom of my heart
Because you cared and ask of me
Through the goodness of your heart