With Whom Will I Stay Young?: A Poem
With whom will I stay agile and young
once when all baby-boomers are gone
just with crooners' songs, million times sung
and with bunch of memories of a life's sweet dawn.
Some boomers looking dead and forgetting to lay down
and some rushed to catch the first ride to their Maker
few moved to young families out of town
others already subscribed at a funeral caretaker.
This kind are talking of their heroics and mercilessly boast
with those old stories everyone knows by heart
even though they look like their father's ghost
but what else to expect from an ancient fart.
Those still kicking are refusing to inspire
being pissed-off at life and their poor health
they did their best for their youth to expire
while missing the most their unattained wealth.
Some of us are planning to show up late for our funeral
young in mind and in spirit beyond any faking
treating all our birthdays as just another numeral
foot glued to the gas pedal and never seen braking.
Well, Dean and Elvis, what can I say
looks like you are stuck with a bunch of geezers
still eager to laugh, and dance, and play
and still looking fresh like taken out of freezers.