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This is a soft, sad poem with a tune (the word for it is “song,” but I am no musician and I have no music for it, so pick a tune and hum along) about three people who I have spoken to only rarely but who have each left an impact on me.
Nick and Jesse and the Old Rose
Lady
Are you on a dead end road?
Yeah, we’re goin’ on down to the 7-11
Maybe gettin’ somethin’ to drink
Guess I’ll check in in a decade or soDid it rain any less this year?
You’ve gotta have hope, y’knowBut you’ve also gotta pull those weeds
Hoping alone won’t do it, I fear
Are you gonna grow up kind?
Spite and Trouble Nick and his ghost of a friend
Standin’ with no jacket on a mountain in the rain
When you grow up, freedom like that’ll be hard to find
What was your life before you were here?
How did you come to know so much about hope
That you can say it all over the fence?
How do you hang on to something you hold dear?
You gonna find your way?
Jesse, don’t you lose that wide-eyed wonder
Nick, oh don’t you lose that wit
You’ll need ‘em when you go out today
To grow up fine?
I don’t know much but I know enough
To know that it won’t be easy
But be darned sure I’m gonna try
There’s a woman down the street who knows a whole lot more
Than you or I combined
Says she don’t know how this got so bad
But she’s hoping for us all the time
It makes me cry, all the faith she has
In a world so very unkind and I think
Maybe if we all do a little dirty work
And if somebody can throw us a line
We might just turn out fine