Bearing Paul

I’ve known him for eternity it seems
but never truly came to know the man
we all avoided like the plague; we ran
in fact to try and dodge his endless streams
of rambling, over romanticized crap.
He always managed to corner us though,
his failing ears oblivious of low
ungracious snickers I hid with my cap,
to talk about the Great Depression or
the ‘Big One’, bleary eyes so far away.
My Mother, smiling wide, would save the day
by saying, "Dad, quit being such a bore!"
The burden of my shame invoked despair
is much more than the casket I now bear.