His clothes are old and dirty,
Tattered from hours of hard work.
His skin is marked and rigid,
Where veins of iron lurk.
Sometimes in conversation,
He forgets just what to say,
And with a laugh that breaks my heart,
"I'm getting dumber every day".
His footing is a little weak,
And he cannot walk too fast.
A body now in pain,
From excitement in the past.
But this man now victim,
To shifting sands of time.
Is the greatest man I've ever known,
Deserving more than simple rhyme.
A man carved of strength and steel,
And polished gently with the shine.
The shine of kindly wisdom,
Seen from his eyes in cups of wine.
He's my father and my hero,
He's the man I want to be.
And though I cannot match him,
The only hope for me,
Is that I've made him proud somehow,
And he knows just what I see.