Pure Love

As a boy of four
I seldom have a care,
but I had to notice
my neighbor sitting there.

On his porch he sat
in silent disbelief
unable to control
or even hide his grief.

Tears ran down his face.
His heart was filled with sorrow.
Not sure if he would live
to see a new tomorrow.

He had lost his wife,
whom he'd loved for many years.
Now he would have no one
to share with all his tears.

So I went over there
and sat upon his knee,
his arm around my shoulder
he closely held to me.

When he could bear it
he sent me on my way.
Then my mother asked me
just what I had to say.

I told her I'd said nothing,
a tear still in my eye.
I just simply sat there
and I helped him cry.