The Wallet Poem by Paul Reed

When I was twenty one
I received a gift of farewell
A leather wallet from colleagues
The future it could not tell;
But every single day since then
For thirty five years in all
I kept that wallet in my jacket
On every day I can recall;
It sometimes held a lot of money
Notes bulging out at the sides
More often it held just a few
As flew past the time and tides;
It still holds precious pictures
Tucked away in the zip at the back
I look at them lovingly when I need
To get back on the right track;
The edges are now all rubbed and scuffed
It has lost its shiny lustre
It looks a little ragged now
Despite spit, polish and duster;
Now, most days it sits empty
Useless to a great extent
No longer bursting at the seams
And all the money spent;
But still I will never replace it
For those pictures bring me hope
No matter what the future brings
I know that I can cope