The man that I was

I've seen
days where
comfy shoes
and socks
was the
only need
I had,
far
surpassing
a woman
cooked
meal
and I
have gone
a whole
scorching
summer
sultry
as a
sauna
without
a single
penny
to my
name,
I have
had as
little
as a
pair
of crusty
jeans
and a
five dollar
harmonica,
a sweat
stained
shirt
and still
stood
smiling,
I used
to be
tough as
Texas
dirt
and I
had a
temper,
mean as
a caged
dog,
if anyone
dared
to cross
me,
but old
age has
made
me
soft
and it's
something
that I'm
afraid
of,
and on
many
days
I wonder
how it
came to
this,
and as
nice as
I am,
I still
miss
that
man