"THE STORYTELLER"
by Becky Hemsley
The pub I was in smelt of wine and cigars
When I saw two old men who were sat by the bar
One was surrounded by laughter and cheers,
The other was sitting alone with his beers
I felt really bad for the man all alone So I walked up and pulled up a stool of my own
And that’s when I noticed the stuff on the floor
The holdalls and trunks and suitcases galore
“What’s in them?” I asked, and he shrugged with a sigh
“Just things I thought mattered - the things I could buy.”
Then he drank up his drink and whilst shedding a tear
He smiled at me sadly and then disappeared
'cause all he had left
Was the stuff in the boxes, the trunks and the chests
Then I looked to the group where the other man spoke
And they laughed ‘til they cried as he told them a joke
So I took myself over and stood at the back
And noticed he hadn’t got cases or sacks
But the stories he told of the oceans he’d sailed,
The countries he’d seen and the mountains he’d scaled
His stories were epic, his life had been full
Then he tapped on his glass and he said to us all
“It’s time I must go but I’ve loved growing old
And I know I’ll live on through the tales that I’ve told
Please believe when I say that to live is enough
Your life should be measured by memories not stuff.”
Then he rose from his chair and we all shed a tear
As he held up his drink to us...
Becky Hemsley 2020
Wonderful artwork (entitled ‘The Last Sup’) by Chris McMorrow
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