His Best Life
By Lord R.e. Taylor
He sits every night and wonders
When did he get so bleeding old
All the wrinkles and grey hairs
They were not there yesterday
He has a feeling that they will be there tomorrow
Going to bed at eight in the evening is new
He never got to bed until at least three a,m.
And all the girls he used to date
Well, they all stayed young, maybe got younger
Not him, though, even if he hadn’t wished it
Now he gets Social Security and senior discounts
He goes to bed just as the sun goes down
And he is losing friends one at a time
But he still lives with a smile on his face
Forgetting all the bad times
And remembering all the good
Knowing he had lived an excellent life
At least the best one he could
© Poem – X/VIII/MMXXVI
LRET




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