Greeting People
Where are the golden years I've heard about,
those worry-free years, I looked forward to?
Now when friends call, they practically shout,
and actors I knew are down to a few.
I'm greeting people at a Walmart store,
what image of retirement includes this?
Prices are high; I can't afford much more,
and yet, hunger's a pain hard to dismiss.
I feel let down; there's no pension, no hope,
I'll continue till I drop dead at work.
What choice do I have? I can barely cope,
it's either go to work or go berserk.
Growing old is such a slow way to die,
every so often, I breakdown and cry.
(Sonnet)
10/7/2018
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