You know I've had my life And seen things I hope you younger writers never see 78 summers have past me by And in a few more years it will be my time to die But I have no regrets about the life I lead And the things I did A few years ago I posted here And encouraged young writers from far and near Many daily poems then we had And as I read my heart was glad because I'd played my part To see my rose buds grow But now I'm just a crippled wreck My hands the result of a broken neck You know in our late teenageΒ yearsΒ we were bullet proof Gave no thought to our later years But life catches up with all of us Aching bones and sagging flesh When just climbing stairs leaves you out of breath But no matter what the age we are The pen we use is for ever young And so I say to all of you Continue to write in the way you do Be you now that tender rose or an acorn on a gnarled old oak Take up the pen and the ink will flow And from your words a rose will grow