When you are young everything's fun
You start then leave most things half done
But when you're old everything aches
You're guilt-tripped eating birthday cakes
You lay awake for half of the night
Wondering if you got things right
Worry about tax, fines, mistakes
You try to shrug when a cup breaks
A broken cup is not a war
There's more, others, sold in the store
Though things aren't like they were before
Just sweep up, shut up, close the door
When there's a bully, what you do
Is take a train to somewhere new
Look for new friends and in a while
You'll smile, they'll smile, a world of smiles
Bad things are omens, we must speak
In worst cases, mourn, just one week
Then play music, and sing and dance
When all else fails, see Spain or France.
-ends-
After writing this, I remembered that in traditional Jewish custom, after a death you sit 'shiva', which means seven, seven days and nights. Don't cook or work. After that, carry on with life.
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