Here is a poem that reminds us that while the world may say that we’re all washed up and it’s too late for us, it just ain’t so! It’s never too late to begin again.
Enjoy the poem!
I read the papers every day,
and oft encounter tales
which show there’s hope for every jay
who in life’s battle fails.
I’ve just been reading of a gent
who joined the has-been ranks,
at fifty years without a cent,
or credit at the banks.
But undismayed he buckled down,
refusing to be beat,
and captured fortune and renown;
he’s now on Easy Street.
Men say that fellows down and out
ne’er leave the rocky track,
but facts will show, beyond a doubt,
that has-beens do come back.
I know, for I who write this rhyme,
when forty-odd years old,
was down and out, without a dime,
my whiskers full of mold.
By black disaster I was trounced
until it jarred my spine;
I was a failure so pronounced
I didn’t need a sign.
And after I had soaked my coat,
I said (at forty-three),
“I’ll see if I can catch the goat
that has escaped from me.”
I labored hard;
I strained my dome,
to do my daily grind,
until in triumph I came home,
my billy-goat behind.
And any man who still has health
may with the winners stack,
and have a chance at fame and wealth—
for has-beens do come back.
What did you think of the poem? Let me know in the comments below. Thanks!
Your Friend and Pep Pal,