Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2172476-The-Neighbor
by Norman
Rated: E · Poetry · Entertainment · #2172476
He never wore a smile
He never said hello to me,
not even a casual, “Hey.”
Forget about, “How are you?”
Or more formally, “Good day.”

I tried to meet him half way.
I’d nod and give a smile.
He never seemed to notice
so I gave up after a while.

He was a dour fellow.
His face was all pinched in.
He never wore a simple smile,
never mind a toothy grin.

His wife was not as stuffy,
although she didn’t chat.
She was a bit more friendly;
I appreciated that.

I read it in the papers.
His heart had failed, they said.
He went to sleep one evening
and never left that bed.

My wife and I discussed things.
There was a wake that night.
Should we go to pay respects?
My wife said it was right.

But I had mixed emotions.
I didn’t want to go.
Could we just send some flowers?
Did we even have to show?

We didn’t really know him,
even after all this time.
And he was a very old man,
no longer in his prime.

Well, he’s not old any longer.
He’s dead as dead can be.
But I can’t say I’ll miss him;
he never spoke to me.

She talked me into going.
I even wore a tie.
The funeral home was empty,
no one else to say goodbye.

And there he was all laid out.
It was a sight to see.
For the first and only time I knew,
he wore a smile for me.

It make me smile too.
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