You say you can’t stay out late any more
or eat those sliders at 1 a.m.
Dragging through work the next day
antacids your main meal
You count the gray hairs on your head
I’m getting old you say
can’t do things the same
Don’t understand the young kids
they have a different work ethic
I tell you that I am mature
old sounds like a nasty word to me
But if you say you are old
what does that make me…
My dear sonCopyright © 2010 Eileen A Partak
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