THE LITTLE BOY AND THE LITTLE OLD MAN
Shel Silverstein (1932-1999)

No compilation of my favorite poems would be complete without something by Sheldon Allan Silverstein, whose work I have read and enjoyed for over 40 years. And once that decision was made, there really was no question that the poem I would select would be "The Little Boy And The Little Old Man." An old favorite of mine, it comes from one Silverstein's many books of what I would call, for lack of a better term "children's poems for grownups." The title of the book in which this poem was included is A Light in the Attic. My first edition copy is inscribed on the inside cover, "Merry Christmas 1981, from Mother and Dad."

Silverstein was a multi-talented individual. He wrote books, plays, cartoons, feature articles, and hundreds of songs, including Johnny Cash's great hit "A Boy Named Sue". Like most Americans my age, I first became familiar with Silverstein's work via his cartoons in Playboy, the first of which appeared in 1956 when I was 16.

Playboy magazines weren't readily available to a 16 year old in those days, and as I recall, the cartoons were not considered the main attraction. But over the years, Playboy became regular reading for most men my age, and not just for the pictures. The magazine featured some great short stories by some now famous authors; informative pieces on cars and stereos; and the best jokes and cartoons available, including Shel Silverstein's. One of the first Silverstein cartoons that appeared in Playboy was a sketch of a woman talking through a screen to a young man in prison. The caption says: "Oh, if you'd only listened to your old Mother! How I begged you . . . pleaded with you - Have the get-away car overhauled! - But no . . ." Anyway, here is "The Little Boy and the Old Man." One of many great poems by the late, great Shel Silverstein.

THE LITTLE BOY AND THE LITTLE OLD MAN

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the little old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.

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