"He strode up on his mighty stallion,
the one for which I'd paid.
And then told me I wasn't worth a dime
and at that was grossly overpaid.
He dismounted from a bejeweled saddle,
a bridle cinched in gold,
And then told me my time had come at last,
"Stop working I was told."
His dashing cape bedazzled me,
his sword a lustrous glow,
But his face was none but misery,
As I was now, to know.
Oh! But, Sir Vulcan, You've lied to me,
You've Lied Oh! How You've lied."
"And If I've lied does it matter now,"
was all that he replied.
"Indeed you have, I cried out loud,
you told me long ago,
That when I reached this time in life
I'd be taken care of so;
I've worked these many, many years,
paid taxes, earned money for you,
And now you arrive on the stallion I bought
and tell me, I am through.
You offer me, but pennies
and expect me to live on that.
Sir Vulcan, I entreat you Sir,
this can't be truth, be fact."
"My man you made your choices,
you made them long ago,
And if you've not enough to live
That's not my problem, I must go.
I must be off to see the others
who've reached your golden time,
To Tell Them That All Their Efforts,
These Years, to me, Aren't worth a single dime!"
And off he strode on his stallion,
to leave the man alone.
Alone and wondering bitterly,
Why, He'd worked his fingers to the bone.
And why he'd ever listened to them,
to the lie they told and told,
By telling him, how he shouldn't worry
For one day when he was old;
He'd be able to do as he wanted,
to relax and enjoy, this great and wonderful world.
And now, after years of making dimes,
while earning them dollars, to see the truth unfurled!
Oh! But six copper pennies,
six copper nothings, upon which to live,
You can't expect a man to smile,
with so much to forgive.
You can't expect a man to dance,
when his heart is beat and broken,
Yet, Somehow You'd think, that alone, would be enough,
to keep the lie from ever being spoken!
By Linda A. Copp
©October 28, 1974