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Edit Poem
Editing Instructions
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Destination unknown
For those who worked hard all their days;
It comes as quite a shock
To shift gears to a workless phase;
Without a ticking clock.
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, pass without a reason
The less we do, the less we can;
In this our final season.
Glory days my friends all praise;
When they were busy doing!
Our good old days of chasing;
A future worth pursuing!
No time to dwell on aches and pains;
No time to stay in bed.
Tick tock the clock our youth did mock;
We cared not what it said!
At last the body rules the mind;
We walk instead of racing;
Children grow and old friends go;
Our historys erasing.
Some paint or write or garden
Or shop, or sail the seas;
Or volunteer with others;
at church or charities.
But I won’t be retiring soon;
Although the sign says “STOP”;
I’m scared I’ll be pulled over;
Unless I punch that clock!
My life’s been one long highway;
And Im a saddletramp;
Who longs to see what waits for me
Beyond that exit ramp.
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