He’d always dreamed
Of teaching grandchildren
Invaluable life skills
Like never expending
Too much energy
For the so many reasons
Such as how hitting a nail overly hard
Could do way more damage
Than anything like good
From the bending of the nail
To the damaging of wood
And he imagined all of this
Taking place on a farm
With more then a few
Giant red barns
Full of golden straw
And a whole lot more
But he never quite got round
To realising his ranch ownership dream
Or even becoming a hand on one
In fact, when it came to
Husbandry as a career path
He didn’t even open the gate
Nor did he father any children
To stand any chance of
Becoming a grand owner of those
So had to make do
With the grandchildren of others
(friends obviously
not just random strangers)
Using the keypads of their modern devices
On which to illustrate his illuminating point
The end of which being
Dulled and blunted significantly
By the lack of a potentially slipping hammer
Making ever so painful contact
With a finger or thumb
Still
The advice remained valid to a degree
The keys on those fandangled contraptions
Not unknown to fall off or get a bit wobbly
But alas
Such is the mindset of the throwaway generation
That a slightly damaged or imperfect condition
Is simply indication of time for a new one
So he become very much famous
As someone handing out advice
No one wanted to know
Leaving him to bitterly lament
His lack of farm with big red barns
And a hammer for children to bang their fingers with

 

 

Thanks for reading