A bob and weave through this crazy world.
A senile wish for a pretty girl.
A recurring dwell over people known.
A soul spirit joy seeing kids all grown.
A thought of things to do over again.
A being old may construe a win.
A look in the mirror what I see
A wonder who’s looking back at me?
A wish to heap thanks on all my teachers.
A big heart love for these God’s creatures.
A wonder what those bullies became.
A knowing now they net greater pain.
A sense sometimes of let’s say ‘shame’for
A leaving the world same as I came.
A ‘What’s for dinner?’ ask needs some teeth.
A top-bottom set to chomp through some meat.
A Living Will ’tis said oldies’ need.
A final trip, deliberate speed.
A kind of designated driver guide.
A doctor ‘yup-nope’ may pierce my hide.
A lot of who-struck-John is said.
A flood of mere words just before bed.
A fisherman old ain’t hard to tell.
A thumbs fumbler, he, tying the snell.




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