By Bob Smith.
I micht be ower sixty five
Bit I’m still fairly fit
Yet I’m afen lookit upon
As bein some auld git
They treat aa us senior fowk
As though we’re past oor best
There’s lots o’ us aaler eens
Fa treat life wi great zest
Oor brains are nae defunct
Tho’ sometimes we micht forget
They wint tae pit us oot tae grass
Weel we’re nae jist ready yet
We dinna hit fowk ower the heid
Dinna hae a binge drinkin’ spree
The only drugs we micht tak
Are for thingies like HBP
We’re nae aat weel thocht o’
Oor opinion it disna maitter
Yet the silver surfin army wid hae
Things rinnin a gweed deal better
Seniors shud stan fer parliament
We’d aa be much better aff
The lot aat are in residence
Behave like a bunch o’ nyaffs
Aa ye aaler anes oot there
Rebel ye senior limmers
So we can hae a better life
Stan up an shak yer zimmers!
©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012
Image credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/shankbone/