His Child Within

The pitter patter of the tiny feet
Of children running up and down the street
I love to hear them laughing at their play
My child within from me has gone away.

I know an old bloke he is seventy two
And some people laugh at some of the things he do
In the children's playground he see saws on the swing
What's strange to some is such a harmless thing.

He may look old his hair may look quite gray
And he may be many years past his prime day
But he is one of the luckiest of men
He has not lost with age his child within.

Some people they grow old before their time
And quite bored with life though still only in their prime
I am of that sort so I ought to know
I lost my child within decades ago.

I envy those who have their inner child
The goddess of youth upon them has smiled
The old bloke who see saws on the swing In the playground
Is one of the luckiest for miles around.