I Hear the Yard A'Calling

I heard an old graveyard, whisp’ring my name Old stones reside there, seemed friendlier, that game Tho not having met my three score and ten I'm thinking these thoughts, my beginning to end? Regrets I have many, desires not filled This world holds youth's wonder like soils not tilled My days? They all merit a decent days work But I spend my time stewing; my toil I shirk Time spent on bad thinking, and gazing my navel This life is worth more, my self is more able Would that I had power to pull myself up By bootstrap or bucket, that truth I won’t buck Great knowledge I've witnessed, keen minds spewing forth They tell me: "act happy then feel the new mirth" So I will move forward on wisdom not mine Perhaps take a rain-check, that graveyard, this time.