How is it possible,

It is so improbable,

But ultimately unstoppable,

I’m going to be 60.


60 is a speed limit, or minutes in an hour.

60 are days in two months or the stories in a tower.

But 60 simply can’t be my age.


Who’d have  guessed us Boomers would live so long,

After all we drank and smoked, partied and did bongs.

Our “Use By” date is past due…This Is Just Wrong.


My music is Oldies, my Neru Jacket is moldie,

My hands and feet are coldie and I’m due for

A colonoscopy.


One response »

  1. work on this a little. You could sell it to a greeting card company. There are several special rules on submitting greeting card verses so check writer’s digest. I just found out that WD is online–you pay a subscription fee to get on ity but it is worthwhile if you want to send out your work. (I think (at least it was once the case) that you need to submit 5 verses at a time, each one on a separate index card–who knows if that is still true?)


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