WHEN IS OLD
I wake in the mornings with my joints stiff, and my back cracking in time with every movement I make. Yet the smell of coffee, and the morning news draws me down the stairs to my chair. For a few moments the pains subside and the welcome of another day is just outside my picture window. Well what will I play with today, the chores, then I can mow hay, clean barns, fix fence, or try my hand at the honey-do list. Seem's like only yesterday when a walk didn't leave me breathless, or the grain sacks didn't weigh 100bls, and the hay bales flew through the air with no effort. I still look towards every day with a thrill of my GODS wonders and the joy that I still get to see everything around me.
So I wonder why the good ol boys stand far away and threaten me or drive by in their pickups making threats, when to run twenty feet would put me on the ground gasping for breath. Can it be that the new generations are just so gutless that the fear of an old man makes them feel safer at a distance, braver as they race by at 60mph, or more of a he-man as they wave their guns from behind their children. No wonder the good ol boys are always trying to find an excuse for why the old man is still here. But if I get my hands on them, they will understand OLD is not what they were looking for and pain will be for them as it is now for me. When is OLD, its when my GOD wakes me no more.
