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It's opening day at the county fair
And no Alex
Driving around on his golf cart.
Alex died last year.
He was old enough.
It was his time.
He lived a full life.
Folks knew it was coming.
He already had one heart attack.
He was in charge of the novelty booths
At the fair, for the past 50 (or so) years.
The booths that sell balloons, Star War's Sabers,
The toys you give your kids to keep them quiet.
A lot of folks thought that Alex
Was a cranky old man,
But some remember the break Alex gave them.
People hard on their luck
Getting their first job at the fair.
In fact, everyone whoever worked for Alex
Had something good to say about him.
There's no one to take over
Alex's business.
Someone else has the contract
On novelty booths.
The ferris wheel's still turning.
The adolescents are still winning
The hearts (and bodies) of their girlfriends
With stuffed animals.
Housewives are still buying
Mops and shammys.
But there's a wave of sorrow
Passing through the hearts
Of the people who remember Alex
Missing his snarly face
Riding around the fairgrounds
On his golf cart.
They all knew he was a millionaire
But he never acted like one.
He could have easily fit in as a barker
At any one of the carnival stands.
It's nine thirty p.m
The ferris wheel freezes
To give the riders a chance to view the fireworks.
As the fireworks end,
The passengers get off,
One by one,
And a new group waits,
Ready to board.
Alex doesn't live here anymore.
And one day neither will you or I.
But the fair will go on,
The ferris wheel will continue to turn,
And maybe, just maybe
Someone will miss us.
Whose heart did you touch today?
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