I met a man today,
he wore deep blue metallic suit
and ugly black slippers.
He stood hunched before,
his voice barely a whisper.
This was a broken man,
his life lost,
and his world withered.
Yet,
he tried to lecture us
on the last thing he loved.
He taught us the melodies,
how to create golden hum.
Rich and deep,
with the vibrations of brass.
Pricking and steep,
from wind over reeds.
Still,
I sat there and wondered,
"will this be me?
A man alone?
Scruffy and bearded?
All hope gone?"
At once I relented,
slowly it crept,
brightening the cavern within my head,
the thought.
I knew at once
that it would not be so,
for I have many years left,
and thousands of places to go.
So I just need to watch my step,
after all my life is my own,
and steer my ship where I want it to go.