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Room 1903
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Ironhorse Writer
©2/28/2007
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Never liked working there
Yet, some things are meant to be
For I shall never forget
The old man I met
In room 1903
They called it an 'Old Folks' home
This, waiting room to die
The frail and down trodden
Or simply forgotten
A fifteen year old wondering, why
Each night I brought their dinner
He'd always look for me
There we'd sit
An old man and kid
In room 1903
Pages of his life turned gently
Skipping those he preferred to keep
It could be said
He was a book well read
Pausing only while drifting to sleep
He spoke of Flat Track Racing
Of scoots, wives and war
How each would cost
The buddies he'd lost
Of not wanting to lose anymore
His stories fueled my passion
Paved a road towards destiny
As the final page turned
At fifteen I had learned
'Ol School Philosophy
I never did know his name
But, that's as it should be
To the world, you see
He was simply, HD
In room 1903
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