I once knew a man, old and wrinkled,

He was eccentric, and his eyes had a twinkle.

Dublin was his name, few knew his first.

He had the gift of quenching knowledge’s thrist.

But what he was famous for, we all hear him say,

“Never forget, tomorrow is another day.”

---

And Irish man was Dublin, proud and tall,

With amazing wisdom like the great king Saul.

He gave everyone advice, looking gaily on life.

The men in town claimed it was because he had no wife.

But Dublin would end the day as he would say,

“Never forget, tomorrow is another day.”

---

Words of old, we had all heard before,

Yet Dublin’s magic made those words soar.

On a day of dread, like the evil of world war two,

Where many around us cried, just like me and you.

One thing lifted our heads, you heard Dublin say,

“Never forget, tomorrow is another day.”

---

The years pass, and old Dublin grew sick,

And we all saw the fading of what made him tick.

We all gathered around, our eyes filled with sorrow,

But Dublin just smiled, giving hope we could borrow.

But fate and time come hand in hand, and Dublin had to say,

“Never forget, tomorrow is another day.”