Age Rating: 13 +
Today, I turned fifty-five;
guess Iím lucky to be alive.
Looking back over those lost years -
proíly drank several thousand beers
and smoked a few hundred packs -
small wonder I wonít get youth back!
Iíve clogged my veins with red meat
and taken poor care of my feet,
worried myself to a frazzle,
ignored my teeth Ė lost that dazzle.
Pompadour? a thing of my past Ė
like my Dad, my hair didnít last.
But I retain some joie de vivre -
rare morns when my stomachís pain free.
Those precious few days Iím less tired,
when blessed with a vision - inspired,
I grab my pen - scratch a fresh rhyme -
escape to a happier time.