My Word

At 40, when life seemed to run amuck
for everybody’s then and future play,
I found I kept reiterating “Fuck!”
But I kept living, till there came the day
when I moved to the mantra of “Ok-a-ay.”
Of late our world is worse – beyond absurd –
and now the query “Really?” is my word.

(Rhyme Royal)

This entry was posted in Aging, Language, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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