The Hard Truth

The Farmers Boy

“Have you heard the news today?”Said the man with the cane.

“No I haven’t care to explain?”

“Did you hear about the farmers boy who had gone missing with a smile so coy?”

She nodded and frowned. And watch the news spread around.

“Have you heard the news from Tim?” Said the woman with the hat.

“I suppose you mean about him.”

“About the poor young boy who was abducted from home! That is why I never leave my children alone.”

She nodded and sighed and wondered why it had to be him; the farmers boy.

“Have you heard the news , oh boy!” Said the young chap.

“I suppose you mean about the terrible ploy.”

“Oh no! None of that sort. He abandoned his father with his prized horse.”

She nodded and smiled to herself. She never knew the boy had such stealth.

“Have you heard the news about the young lad?” Said the woman in blue.

“I suppose you mean about the outrageous fad.”

“But of course dear, how do you know? He ran off with a showgirl to Idaho!”

She nodded and laughed at what the boy had become. A floozy young fellow born to run.

She walked back to the house,

stopping on the way to pay,

respects to the farmer that day.

The green bed which he laid under;

sparkled with dew

Oh, only if the towns people really knew.

The cobble stone roads led up to the house,

where she had lived alone,

with no spouse.

She pulled open the drawer,

and set her type writing machine down,

with a clunk on the floor.

She began to type another tale,

about how the boy wasn’t really from Yale.

And how the farmers boy, who wasn’t to be toyed.

She wrote him off a new life.

Making herself,

his lawfully wedded wife.

One went to the woman with the hat.

Who sent the girl off with a pat.

A copy was given to the man with the cane.

who looked at her and there was no need to explain.

One went to the young chap.

Who had nothing to yap.

And lastly one given to the woman in blue.

Who simply just knew.

Half the truth shall out,

as the pages were spread around,

Now words explained the profound.

The pages spoke without a doubt

telling the story about,

what life was really about.

So she picked up the type writer,

from the floor,

for it had no purpose anymore.

She put it back in its place,

letting it go,

of her tight embrace.

Not another word need be typed,

because everyone knew,

of the farmer boys wife.

She need not worry of what people would say,

because not a single word,

was exchanged that day