Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time there was a very old man

Who was almost blind and shaky was his hand

He couldn’t hold a spoon well and spilt the soup on the table

His knees trembled so sit still he was not able

Now him and his son’s wife were disgusted with him

So they made him sit alone in a corner dark and dim

While the old man was sitting in his corner so lonely

He looked at the table, tears running down his cheeks so slowly

He never got enough food in his tiny little bowl

And one day it fell to the ground ‘cuz he could hold it no more

Well the son’s wife got upset and scolded the old man good

And bought a cheaper, smaller bowl, made out of rough old wood

Well one day the grandson, who was only four,

Was gathering little sticks, and when asked what he was doing replied so

“I’m gathering wood, all I can find is little sticks,

To make a trough for mommy and daddy to eat out of when I grow big.”

The man and his wife looked at each other, then at their son

And realized the mistake they had made, how horrible they had become

They started to cry and told the grandfather

That they were very sorry, that spilling things was no bother

So now to this day, if the old man is not dead,

He sits with them to eat, thanks to what a four year old said

Reviews

[¥Miss.¥ §M..]

I really like this. Thank you :)

[reflectingus]

Aww, such an inspirational story, I think I've heard it somewhere.
but really, this poem is an eye opener for many. I'm glad you wrote it :)