He fixes things, or, at least, he tries
Taking old things for repair
A microwave, a toaster oven
A broken-down armchair
Old TVs, radios, and a fridge
Starting with one or two in his workshop
Graduating to a horde of broken things
Lining the room from bottom to top
He’s a fixer, lending a helping hand
To the needy that he meets
But he thinks nothing of his good deeds
Thinking, “anyone would do it”
Many a thing he takes for fixing
He ends up giving to one who needs it
For everyone knows Old Fix-it
Collects less for fixing and more for charity
A simple man, nonchalant
Unassuming in every way
You’d never guess the places he’s been
In lands far, far away
But his fixing days are over
He’ll never fix that broken clock
His house is now stacked with rusting things
For Mr. fix-it, time has stopped
© Larisa McBean
LariMac 