A Storefront In Old Town Poem by Jack Worthington

You've seen a lot my friend, your weathered letters show
The autumn rain gently tapping on the windows, turning to winter flakes of snow
Of first communions come and gone, and diamond rings which the women fawn, your legacy lives on
That thief that came to pawn, his desperate eyes sung no song

Of a person's life you've lived three, never given away for free
Your bricks uneven, laid by better men, from simpler times they call
With you grows a crooked tree so tall, your trusted friend, through thick and thin you dream, of all the people come and gone, their faces once again pressed against the window, but it's not to be.