I've pretended for far to long now
But when my grey white hair falls like snow upon my shoulders
And even in summer I feel the ache in my joints
I have to finally accept that I'm old

Yes, I've seen the bad sad times
And lived the good
In equal measure
Lived the high life with money to spend
Experienced visiting food banks
To keep my family fed

But now in the twilight of my years
I'm neither rich nor poor in monetary wealth
Just about comfortable

But in my words and yours
I have far more than financial worth
I have friends in words
Burned forever into ether of space
Words of love, sometimes words of scorn
But still words
And in my scrambled mind words are beautiful

Continue to write dear friends