There is a song in this some place.

Friday I when to the Soc. Sec office to sign up, as it is now time. After climbing a long stair case, I stopped in front of a big glass door. There standing looking at me was an elderly gentleman. I took a good look at him as he did seam familiar, I looked deep into his eyes, they were kind looking eyes, deep set with wrinkles, some call crows feet. His hair was white but very, very thin. He looked tired, His hand reach for the door knob; they were not the hands of a laborer, but rather hands of a man who had done light work all his life, perhaps office work. His cloths were old but clean as if there my be someone in his life looking after him. Some how he seamed a bit sad, although he did give me a little smile. He looked like the kind of man I would like to get to know, but never had the time. Even in that moment I did not have time for this old man, I was on a mission. Is that why he seams a bit sad, no one has time for him? . Maybe tomorrow. I opened the door and he was gone.