Passed 86 Poem by Scarborough Gypsy
Passed 86
You can't be a poet
Passed eighty six
I wonder why that is
Is it because
At eighty seven
You've lost all faculties
Or perhaps 'they' think
That by that time
The poet's dead and gone
There MUST be SOMEONE out there
Who can prove them wrong!
a happy cheerful poem which I like but sadly death withers us all and close and closer only terrible dreams dreams of a life perhaps wasted and no time left to restore the glory a fine poem
Isn't '86-ing' when a restaurant runs out of (or throws out) something? Seems you haven't run out of words and are still pretty fresh! Keep 'em coming! -chuck
Sweet little write, a deserved tribute to older writers. Warm regards, Gina.
Not a bad poem for a person of your age. I'm sure at this rate you'll be writing just as well next year when you're 87. Hope you are enjoying your retirement as much as I am mine :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 11:23:26 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Poetry is meaning and if that ever was to run out then so would the life of all Poetry of any age.Keep it going don't extinguish the light, pass it on.Love Duncan