Of Roofers Life And Pain. Poem by bill upchurch

sweat dripping off me. man it looks just like mud. for it seams like only yesterday. i was a young roofing stud.my skin looks like old leather.my knees pop and crack. now please don't get me started. on this old roofers back.im just an old roofer. some say that im a fool. tryin to earn a living. with just these hands and my tools.my youth all used up now. and its to late to change.so ill head for the ladder. cause now its startin to rain. dang this pain in my body. from jobs and years gone by.as my wife looks at our checkbook I pray that she wont cry. the winters come to quickly. and were not ready once again. i look at our bills and wonder. why it don't sink in? so ill strap on my back brace and crack my fingers so they work. and I hope the guy I work for today.is not some kind of jerk. lord please smile upon me. if only you will.as I reach into my pocket to grab another pill. i see them everyday now. younger guys with much less skill. they look at me and think. man hes over the hill. but look closely at this wrinkled face son. for your time will come and fast. most real roofers make fifty. before they put us under grass.so i think of my dad quite often. grandpa and roofers gone on before. this trade means a great deal to me.as I draw closer to the door. big jim and john and jerry. dave and gene and thad. i learned the trade from you men. and for that im truly glad. cell phones and files and g.p.s these days that's what its about.so you think your a roofer. because you can move a mouse? ive tried the new ways my brothers. i just cant adapt.ill just set and ponder. and bounce my grandson. on this old roofers lap.by a third generation journeymen roofer.