Those golden years, Are here at last. They said that it, Would be a blast. The kid's are gone, The hair gets gray. We get so lonely, Day by day. My partner's gone, It's hard to face. Each day alone, This awful pace. The aches are worse, It makes no sense. To S-I-S. Suffer in silence.
Reason for writing:
When you get old, you you'll understand.
Birth sign: Not entered
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