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Benjamin
Benjamin lived right next door to me back when I was just a student at the university He was long since retired from the faculty And I couldn't get to class without him stopping me He was a master of conversation, but then again The only thing he didn't know how to do was end So we'd step to the grass and leave the sidewalk So we wouldn't block traffic as we stood there and talked And I would stop Lend an ear to him He'd tell you all you want to hear and then some and then He would stop Take a look around and say, I can remember being younger than this town He said, son, I've been here since before you were born The trees were not so tall then and the winters not so warm Through pop bottle glasses he looked me in the eye Said "Son, be sure you have loved before you die. You young people don't seem to enjoy the ride." He took off his glasses, wiped them and sighed Looked to his dog, who hung on everything he'd say "See it's not the destination, it's the stuff along the way." And I would stop... Life was incredibly simple for Ben, all the dramas and the traumas didn't seem to phase him. "Just another chapter," was the kind of thing he'd say and "Any day you wake up has got to be a good day." He had a boxer named penny, walked her four times a day And one summer poor penny just up and passed away He got another boxer, looked like penny through and through And just to keep life simple he named her penny, too And I would stop... © André Villoch
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