Residual Value

Ask a person who is dying (there’s no interest in your cash);
Ask the people who are aging (they’ll not pilfer from your stash);
For their time of harvest’s over, evening time is drawing nigh;
They will help you with your problem, on their words you can rely.

If you ask the young and restless, when you know they’re on the make,
They will take you to the cleaners, of your worldly goods partake;
But the old, and frail, and broken, have their thoughts on things above;
They will lend a hand with gladness, on your projects lavish love.

But the old, and sick, and dying, (or the ones perceived that way),
Are not courted for their wisdom, helpful words which they can say;
They are pushed off to the sidelines, relegated to the dump,
’Till we find ourselves there with them, with our futures in a slump.

Then’s the time we are not fussy, 'bout their offers to assist,
We find help is offered to us in a way we can’t resist;
For they say those words of magic, “You don’t have to die with us,
I will help you if you’ll listen, help you rise above your muss.”

Inclination to resist them, so ingrained inside our soul,
Makes us hesitate to listen, though we’ve never been so low;
Then a funny thing we notice, they don’t care – the problem’s ours;
We can take or leave assistance, take or leave their proffered powers.

They just walk to door or window, look outside to see the line,
Of the other people with us, (who come ’round when things are fine);
Then they shrug and say, “Don’t see them – must be on the Internet”,
Then they go about their business, they don’t really care, and yet –

It’s not that – why would they offer if they did not care a whit?
It is more they are not pushy; let us in our problems sit;
They have had a life of pressure from the others to conform,
They are now beyond their reaches, free to flaunt their neighbor’s norm.

They’ve no reason to feel pressure, heed the rush, or catch the wave;
Place their hope in latest fashions; be a hero; save the day;
They can take or leave an offer; smell the roses; pet a dog;
There's an ease in their demeanor – walking free while in a bog.

If they’re Givers, they’ve got wisdom; if Perceivers, insights they;
If Compassion-Persons friendship, peace and laughter in their play;
If they’re Servers they’ve precision born of years of skillful toil;
Teachers have a wealth of knowledge – air, and water, fire, and soil –

If Encouragers they’ve system, how to get from A to Z;
If Administrators, structure, guiding rivers to the sea;
In the Seniors’ Homes you’ll find them, cast-off persons in the dump;
They’ll appreciate inclusion; in your project they can pump –

Value you could never purchase; with a calm stability;
Contacts from a life of living; strong desire to set folks free;
They don’t have to rush to get there, as they sit there by the fire –
They have satisfied their longings, they’re not driven by desire.

Youthful culture has its merits which are plain enough to see,
But with age there comes a balance – we need both to set us free;
Not all young folks are that open, nor all old folks you will find;
But there’s plenty in the junkyard who have now an open mind.

There’s a slogan used of garbage, bandied ’round community,
Says, “Refresh, Reuse, Recycle” if we want to future see”;
People are kind of garbage in the eyes of silly folk,
But such castoffs are not garbage – young or old, in both there’s hope.

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