My Best Friend Danny Poem by jim foulk

I met him in nineteen fifty-six
he was my best friend
him and I, was always in a fix
of our fights, we always did mend.

There was the time
we painted the fence
wanted to do the job, real fine
used a whole gallon of paint
it didn't make sense
my brother dave asked,
'What happened to all the paint'?
when we told him, 'We used it all, '
he laughed, I thought, he was going to faint,
thru the years, with that story,
we have really had a ball

Then there was the time
we tried to chop down the tree
my brother got mad, but the three was mine
oh, we were so care-free

I never forget the racoon,
that followed us home,
he seemed to like our radio
that was playing a tune
the racoon, seemed so a lone

I never forgot the indian head
pennies, he sold me,
he stole them, of crime he led,
he had taken them from his dad
I should have known, he sold them so cheap
to get them back, his father was glad

He always did something
to me that was real mean
to make up, a present he would bring
of our friendship, he would lean

He taught me how to smoke
this you say, you call a friend.
when I could have had a stroke,
but he always had money to lend

When I didn't have any friends at all,
Danny was always, by my side
and it sure made me feel tall
if any one picked on me, he would
beat their hide

Every one called him and I a clown,
each one laughed so hard
that it, really brought them down,
at poker, he could really hide a card

Every morning before school
we played poker, he cheated a lot
and with him, I wanted to fight a duel
but he told me 'I cheat not.'

Of the down town loop, we did ride
in nine-teen fifty-nine
our car through the streets, would glide
trying to find girls
that would be his or mine

In nine-teen sixty, my dog shep died,
it was very depressing and sad
him and I, all day we cried
it made me unhappy and a little mad

In nine-teen sixty-two
he joined the army
I tried to join, but didn't make it
those days were very stormy
after what he went through,
I didn't mind a bit

In nine-teen sixty-seven
the army let him go,
at home at last, I thought I was
in heaven
but I soon found out, it wasn't so

The army had changed him, in many ways
Danny was not the same anymore
as I looked back, at those good old days
when I always heard him, knock on the door

All he wanted to do now, is go drink
he could'nt sit still very long
and he was really starting to sink
he had seen action, against the Viet Cong

Next to him one night
a man's throat was slashed, a man who was kind
it wasn't good, or right
and what it must have done, to Danny's mind

Over the years, I saw him, until eighty-one
hav'nt seen him since
remember well, good times and all the fun
Danny where ever you are,
you are still my best friend
does that make sense.