The Old Man Down The Road

He was an old man
He must have been young
Just like yesterday
When I wrote a song
But I'd like to think of him
As the old man down the road
But not too old

He used to think
A lot
And pen down
His thoughts
On paper of course
He called them Physics
No wonder, I find them
So cryptic

He wrote, he read,
He thought some more
Unlikely for a student
Deemed so mediocre

Soon the word spread
That he was nothing less
Than an extraordinaire
With a love for numbers
Quite obviously a flair
I wish I had

But, not really

"You're the best!"
"The ultimate!", they cheered on
The old man with a brain
Everyone craved to have  

A downpour it was
Of awards and prizes so fine
Enough to put him on cloud nine

But, not really

The lonely old man
From day one
Said,"Bye friends, wives and sons!"
They left, all forlorn

And he lived and died on his own

I remember him wondering (aloud),
"How would it be,
To be that plain old man
Who lives down the road?"

My take on the therapist's point of view during one of his sessions
with Einstein