Uncle Charley

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Uncle Charley turned fifty today,
yesterday he was forty five.
All his doctors are quite amazed,
ten years ago, they knew he'd die.
He has always been twice his age,
ever since he was twenty five.
Guess that is the price you pay,
when you try to touch the sky.
The bleeding pain inside his legs,
makes it hard to get around,
and he still goes out anyway,
still walks all over the town.
He seems to know his day to die,
something tells him in his bones.
He just grins and winks his eye,
says he'll know when to go home.
Uncle Charley turned seventy today,
he is really only thirty five,
a classic portrait of toothless decay,
with the love of God in his eyes.
He walks a junkie, footsore step,
but he's got Jesus in his soul.
Any second he'll draw his last breath,
and he tells you what he knows.
"I've seen a lot of Christian love,
most i've seen is hypocrisy,
but He shines on me from above,
and i'm who i'm supposed to be."
You can call him a junkie old freak,
his love you'll never know.
If you listen and hear him speak,
i tell you, you will grow.
Uncle Charley turned eighty today,
and he's really only forty five.
He's still got some more to say,
a lesson to teach before he dies.

Some of my other poems:
We Haven't Met
Urban Renewel
The Poet Lives

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