Happy Birthday they say, you are Forty Six!
Sometimes I'd rather they just threw some sticks
because rocks might break my hip and then I'd die of pneumonia
The years carved in my forehead, rings in the tree
The passing of years has strengthened me
unless the wind blows too hard because I'm starting to lose balance
I have obtained wisdom I would never return
To the innocent girl with a whole lot to learn
cause these knees might go with it and she had a whole lot of roller skating to do
You can also read Joy in the fine lines I wear
Written from neck line to graying hair
at least I can with some 2.75 readers
So I've tipped the balance in the middle of where
If I live to be ninety it's all down hill from there
which is good cause I'm really out of breath
I would not trade a trade a thing I've learned
I would not take back a moment I've earned
except maybe when my boobs disappeared...
And I really don't mind that I've grown to middle age
Gone through the mill I like being this page
cause even though it's been crumpled up it will smooth right out with some Olay, Right?
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