Don't Live for Half Past Four

I met an old man on the way home

he sat on the old wooden bench

he rasped how time had been so kind

and how life always found its way

I stared at him as if he were sin

and rebuked his way of life

he laughed a little

weezed even more

then he hollored out

that if I was right

and life was so wrong

then what was there to live for?

I rolled my eyes

strolled down the street

ignoring the crime at the store

it mattered to me not

so why care for the lot?

why care if people die next door?

what will i get

for helping those men

or doing good for all those poor?

nothing at all

so I'll do my own thing

care for myself

and get home by half past four

I arrived at my house this evening

and opened my creaking door
I walked right in
and turned on the lights
to find that nothing was there
with windows crashed
and furniture missing
all the money I stashed
was no longer sitting
nothing was no longer there

my life had gone out the door

all of it gone by half past four

I met an old man on the way to work

he sat on the same old bench

he was reading a book

about living life to its fullest

and all the same stuff from before

I asked him rudely,

"whats the point of that shit?

what is there ever to look for?"

he smiled his same smile

the same old man grin

and said, "its for life I live for

you live for yourself and thats it

I live to be more so there's more"

The time came and the bus arrived

he walked in with his cane

looked over his shoulder

winked with his left eye

he tossed me a quarter

and said, "next time, dont live for half past four."