Getting old is not for sissies
Somewhere you can be taken care of
Somewhere they can
drop you off.
Be careful in your golden years,
You might want to
move far away.
Where the kids can’t watch you deteriorate,
And maybe send the
grandkids to stay.
I blame my Irish ancestors
That land of youth
from their stories
Has given us committees now to determine
If we’re still in
“worth treating” categories.
The Golden Years it seems have gone brass
Not in favor with
those who advertise
So they cancel our favorite TV shows,
We’re the wrong
demographic I surmise.
But the youth of the rising generation
Have
underestimated this generation of geezers.
I don’t think we will go very quietly,
Though we may be a
bunch of old wheezers.
© 2018 by Tom King
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