The old man walked into the bar last night,
Chugged downa beerand started a fight.
It was clear from the minute he stepped inside,
He would start a ruckus before he left that dive.
The barkeep knew him from the past,
Said he’d have him arrested but it wouldn’t last.
The poor guy lost his wife the other night,
Wasn’t his first ruckus, wouldn’t be his last fight.
Some men buckle, and some will fight,
Some do nothing and stay out of sight.
One never knows what faith may bring,
How we handle our grief and pain.
Funny thing, about a bar at night,
It’s home for loners, no mattertheir plight,
The only family that some people share,
Is the folks in a bar,‘cause they are there.
I dusted him off and paid his bill,
Offered him a ride to the top of the hill.
When he stepped out of my pickup truck,
He thanked me twice and wished me luck.
Woke up this morning, thinking of him,
Not sure of his name, but I think it was Tim.
Picked up the paper and read the obits,
Saw that his wife really suffered a bit.
The man needs a friend, I told myself,
Do I have the time, how can I help?
Do I have what it takes to save a soul,
Someone so sad, and someone so old?
Funny thing, about a bar at night,
It’s home for loners, no matter their plight,
The only family that some people share,
Is the folks in a bar, ‘cause they are there.
I drove to his house at the top of the hill,
Knocked on his door, heard a house cat shrill.
Tim opened the door with a smile ear-to-ear,
Said, “Come in for breakfast, I’m glad you’re here.”
He apologized for his brawl at the bar,
He’d just lost his wife and wrecked his car.
Said grief wasn’t easy, even if you prepare,
Waking up in the morning and she ain’t there.
Tim became my best friend that day,
When I lost my wife, he came for a stay,
He picked me back up when I was down,
Restored my soul, got my feet on the ground.
Funny thing, about a bar at night,
It’s home for loners, no matter their plight,
The only family that some people share,
Is the folks in a bar, ‘cause they are there.
Mailed to Myself on July 21, 2025
