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AN ODE TO MALE RETIREES
From out of his past flow memories that last,
a retiree's daily trend;
for he becomes blue
with nothing to do,
so he pours out his past from within.
He recalls all his times and always defines
a million things that he's done;
It gets very old
as the stories are told,
just adding another re-run.
In the yard and the house
he bothers his spouse,
where he putters around all day;
she can scarcely hear
his comments clear...
as he mutters his words away.
And from the yard he gets soiled
where he piddles and toils,
and into the kitchen...tracks
the mud on his shoes,
his wife's not amused,
and scolding she did not relax!
Now he has those old clothes,
which he will not dispose,
some carry an ancient decor;
and when he undresses,
the hamper he misses
and clothes are strung on the floor.
And it seems all the days
that he's set in his ways,
and never does he alter his mind,
but never the less, we all can attest,
that no one is ever so kind.
But he never will win
if we show doubt in him,
So please try hard not to fuss,
and be good to him
when patience grows thin,
'cause someday it happens to us!
And because after all,
he has met God's call
while paying his life's long fee;
and when he is gone we'll all feel alone,
and we'll miss the old retiree!
William E. Hardison - copyrights recorded
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