Life After Fifty

Life after fifty, is no longer fun,
For it’s harder to get, ‘most anything done;
Between the naps, and the aches and the pains,
You struggle to stop, from going insane.

You’ll waggle or walk, where you once liked to run,
And stairs will become, things that you shun;
Your sight will be blurred, and your glasses you’ll lose,
And you’ll struggle to tie, the laces on shoes.

The nails on your fingers, will be harder to trim,
As you struggle to sep’rate, nail from the skin;
The pills that you need, will grow by the year,
And your doctor‘s bills, will become more dear.

Your saintly kids, who did what you asked,
Will now decide, to take you to task;
They’ll challenge the virtues, you hold close to heart,
And do bad things, to tear you apart.

The money you saved, while you were young,
Will melt like an icecream, in the ‘college fund’;
And daughter and son, will go on their way,
And return to visit, for maybe a day.

The gold in your hair will turn to pale grey,
While you wonder where, your time passed away.
And young ‘uns at work will race past you fast;
While your boss will wonder how long you will last.

Yes, life after fifty, is no longer fun,
Until the day your grandkids have come;
For when they arrive, you’ll once again thrive,
And relive your pleasures through the eyes of a child.

Copyright (c) 2007-2026, Rosario (Ross) D'Souza. All Rights Reserved
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