I had an old friend, he was one of a kind, Every week he’d buy a lotto ticket, chasing some dream in his mind. I asked him one day, “Why do you even try? You’ve got better odds of catching rain in a clear blue sky.” He laughed, shook his head, and leaned back in his chair, “Son, it ain’t just the numbers; it’s the hope I find there. But let me tell you something, so you’ll understand— If I ever hit the jackpot, I’ve got a foolproof plan.” “When I win the lottery, here’s how it’ll go: I’ll take you and eight others to the fanciest showroom I know. I’ll say, ‘Go pick a couch, the one that feels just right, And it'll be in your house before the end of the night.’” He paused, took a sip, and grinned ear to ear, "I’ll burn through the money; it’ll disappear. But here’s the twist, and I swear it’s true— I’ll always have a spot on the couch with you." I laughed ‘til I cried, said, “You’re a clever man. But couches ain’t much of a retirement plan.” He shrugged and said, “I’m not aiming for gold, I just want a place to rest when the nights get cold.” That was years ago, and he never struck it big, But he never stopped dreaming, never stopped the gig. I think about him often, his laugh, his grin, And the way he found joy in the long shot’s spin. You see, some folks chase fortune, some chase fame, But my old friend, he played a different game. It wasn’t the money, it wasn’t the prize It was the thought of his friends and the look in their eyes. So here’s to my friend, wherever he sleeps tonight, May his dreams be warm, and his heart feel light. And if he ever needs it, my couch is free— Just like he always imagined it would be.
