By Bob Smith.
| Es growein aul’ tis a pain Some fowk treat ye wi disdain If yer noo ower seeventy five Ye’ve less chunce o steyin alive . Ye micht nae be treated fer Big C Ach ye’ll noo jist hae tae dee Ye’re a burden tae the NHS Yer chunces o treatment cwid be less . It’s noo a warld fer the young an fit If yer aul’ yer in the shit Society wints ye oot the wye So curl up an bliddy die . Leukit upon as bein senile Nae langer pairt o rank an file Costs ower muckle fer yer care Time ye wis plunkit in yer lair |
Time fer aul’ buggers tae fecht back An show the warld we dinna lack The will tae live an contribute We hiv mair sinse than some nae doot . Maist aulder eens they aye vote So governmints please tak note Ignore us an ye’ll fin oot noo We hiv the power tae turn the screw . Seeventy five aat’s noo nae auld Even tho some fowk are turnin bald Wi hiv earned the richt tae expect Society tae treat us wi mair respect. . . . . ©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2014 |
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