The Old Man in the Rocking Chair

Sitting on a porch, watching the sun go down
and thinking back on how life used to be….old-man-in-rocking-chair-new-frame-1

The old man is rocking
In his rocking chair,
The old man is watching,
A different world out there;
His old blue eyes
Covered with a misty hue,
Remembering another world,
The world in which he grew.

Time doesn’t stand still,
The world has to move along;
“Times they are a changing”
That old Bob Dylan song.
But the old man in his rocking chair,
Rocking gently to and fro,
Is hankering after yesteryear,
For the times he used to know.

When people used to show respect,
A respect that was returned;
Being kind and considerate,
At an early age was learned.
When knowledge was the quest,
There was a yearning to discover,
Not obsessed with social media,
Video games, reality TV undercover.

When your privacy was respected,
There wasn’t the need to hide,
And with your friends and family
You could openly confide.
When people didn’t track you
Every hour of every day,
Trying to record
Every single word you say.

When you used to have conversations,
Talking face to face,
Didn’t need a computer,
Or some network interface.
When you were still at liberty
To speak what was on your mind,
Before political correctness
Turned our liberty blind.

When the pace of life was slower,
More time was what we had,
Now there’s no time for anyone,
It’s makes the old man sad.
A tear rolls down his cheek,
Out of his old blue eye;
The old man rocking there,
The old man wondering why.

The old man is rocking
In his rocking chair,
The old man is watching,
A different world out there;
His old blue eyes,
Covered with a misty hue,
Remembering another world;
He loved the world he knew.

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