When all's said and done
It isn't much fun
Being aged one
Nor a hundred and one
Can you remember when
You were just ten
Do you think about it
Just now and then?
However, there's plenty
To say about twenty
Twenty-one, life's ahead
Lots of bread, lots of bed
And thirty's not bad
There's more fun to be had
Baby, maybe, even forty
You can be quite naughty
I've seen some at fifty
Still agile and nifty
And if they're not rich
They're expertly thrifty
And as for sixty, and seventy,
I'm sorry to say
As strength fades away
Much to say, do and pray
And when you are eighty
It's your right to retire
But the tax man demands
Work, forms, 'til you expire
Please don't ask me my age
I reached secretive stage
When I don't tell my wage
I've said, done, enough, filling this page.
-ends-
Please share links to your favourite poems
No comments:
Post a Comment