Stan Poem by Paul Reed

There you stand in ragged attire
A symbol to our silent mirth
Resolutely defying time's fire
In this place of your lowly birth;

For what little do fame and fortune cater?
Offering nothing but sordid gain
When today, all those years later
We stand and stare at you in the rain;

Stan, our sweet smile of childhood
Taking us far beyond mortal sorrow
Laughter, our bounteous force for good
And you, still there tomorrow.