A Man And His Old Dam
He had to return to that old, old dam,
Where he often roamed as a lad;
To see it crumbling, eroding away,
Left him pensive, reflective and sad-
And this he told me-
'I saw the high and low water marks
Clearly etched on the battered old wall;
With life's flotsam and jetsam pounding away,
My old dam seemed ready to fall.
It has guarded life's waters for near eighty years
And has lasted as long as I;
Scars from those years are clearly in view-
I am telling you this with a sigh.
I feel an affinity with that old dam
And can see a reflection of me;
After seeing it slowly decaying away,
I was filled with a deep empathy.
Life, like the waters, must keep flowing on,
Ever hampered by time and the years;
I, in my twilight, keep thinking on this-
Pardon me, while I wipe some tears.
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