Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
On My Golden Years
And why wouldn't I be the hermit of the neighborhood?
I would have, by then, seen infinitely more than I should
Of a cruelty that might just have it out for me.
And why don't I agree with the young?
Could they put a price on my retired life?
My seclusion is not without reason,
I've been drawn thin; my body revolts
But I'm not alone
I have a picture,
Hanging in my mind,
Of what retirement is.
I have no reason to hold back;
I only wish I could,
Because I don't think you're ready
For a loneliness I will not know.
poem
by
Marian Evans
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black