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What'll I. Do?
The years going quick, my mind is playing tricks,
My body is reeking in pain, oops, I just did the splits;
Where's the balance now I'm getting older,
But isn't it great, the older we get, we get more bolder.
Oh what'll I do, I ask! Yep, What'll I do?
As the years progress faster, time is my master,
Bearing down on me, to me time is a pester;
Then memory lane to me, is disappearing,
And the grey hairs are quickly appearing;
Oh dear, What am I to do, what am I to do.
Those friends I knew from years ago,
Gradually go away, to a place so free; it's true;
And the shopping and housework that has to be done,
Seems I'm not finished till the setting of sun;
Oh. What'll I do, yep, what'll I do.
poem
by
Margaret Haig
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