The old man sat out on his porch, Watching as I crossed the street. Just then a child on his bike, Nearly knocked me off my feet. I spun around and yelled & cursed, As the child sped off somewhere. The old man watched all this intently, Leaning forward in his chair. When he waved and beckoned to me, With a smile upon his face, I realized that he'd been watching. Now I felt full of disgrace. I hung my head as I approached him, Walking slow and silently. The old man led me to the backyard, To a weeping willow tree. A worn old fence all full of holes, Against the willows side did lay. "Let me tell you," said the old man, "How this fence became this way." As a child my older brother, Always did cruel things to me. I could not fight back against him, So I came down to this tree. I needed to release my anger, I picked up a hammer and nail. Striking it with all my might, I drove it deep into the rail. Even though I drove the nail in, It left a scar for me to bare. As time passed and I forgave him, Each nail I removed with care. Now every nail had been removed, But the fence was not the same. To this day it's full of holes, Reminders of the past and pain. So my friend please listen to me, I know sometimes you get so riled. Next time think about this fence, And leave no scars upon a child. By Michael Hromek 11/13/99 � 1999 Big Bear Publishing