I'm a healthcare worker. I'm working with an older gentleman who has dementia. I'm asking him questions about his past and he's telling me all sorts of random stories. The guy is fairly confused and his thinking isn't always so linear.
Anyways, he's telling me about his dad and his time after serving in WWI. Apparently he went to Oregon and was a lumberjack for some time. Then, he recites this poem out of nowhere (I wrote it out below). I'm totally caught off guard, but ask him to explain. Apparently, while in Oregon, his dad found this poem written on a piece of paper while walking in a trail. He memorized it and later recited it to his son.
I've googled and searched, and as far as I can tell, this poem exists nowhere on the internet. In all likelihood, this poem only exists in this man's brain. So, I had him repeat it slowly, so I could record it.
I'm not a poetry guy, really. But, even I can tell the poem isn't going to win any awards. Still, in a world where there's a record of almost everything new, it felt wrong to let this one thing fade into obscurity as this man loses his memory further and eventually dies. So, here's the poem as best he can recall.
The Poem:
These are the thoughts of the lumberjack as they toil in the virgin woods
Where towering pines reach timberlines in the mountainous solitude
I'm tired of working my life away with never a thing to show
For the toil I've done til setting sun to the lousy camp I go
And the fat sleek boss and the pittance to live upon