Go on run, run from your life
You did the home, kids , and wife
You should run before you fall
So just run, run from it all
Nine to five's a daily grind
Just leave it all far behind
No more sweat, stress, or strife
Better run, run from your life
Kids don't care, it's such a crime
They're on their phones all the time
As for you, they never call
When you run, run from it all
She swore, till death do us part
But you can't thaw a frozen heart
Every hour cuts like a knife
Gotta run, run for your life
.
It may be the mid life crisis
okay
so far
i'm digging it
nah
it's you girl
every tough inch
uv your's
i'm gonna let the reader
sizzle girlie
sizzle
yeah
you are it...
senorita
your auburn tresses
alone
their cascade
'long yourn frame
i love looking and writing
'bout your's
mine fine feminine
....
i'm thanking Him
i'm thanking Him girlie
With all this Corona in the air,
Wearing masks is a total nightmare!
Whilst we're hiding faces
Time to buy some braces,
Fix these wonky teeth, neat and square
There comes a time
Looking back on this life of mine
They say it’s a mid life crisis
It’s more like times oasis
In the mist of memory’s
Some clear some faint
Looks like I’ve not been a complete saint
The ladder of time reaches high
memories locked in the minds eye
Step by step we see the past
Each run the ladder so vast
One or two we need to forget
But often they slip through the net
Keep all memories good and bad
Be Happy not sad
Memory is a snapshot of time
No one can take them
They are all mine.
Mid life crisis worth
wear and tear
cannon fodder curse
6-17-18
mid-life crisis
hubby's hair turning
back to brown
The Mid-Life Crisis
By Elton Camp
It was at the age of forty-five
A new car Fred bought to drive
You might think he’d buy a sedan
In keeping with being a family man
He thought a convertible would be nice
Above the dash was a fuzzy pair of dice
He had “Mean Machine” put on the side
With painted, red flames, Fred did ride
So that anyplace that he would go,
He’d be called by chicks, “Daddy-O”
The problem was seen by Fred’s wife
It was a crisis brought by mid-life
After a few months, he settled down
And got his feet planted on the ground
Thirty years later, he did the same again
But this time he was too old to create sin
Escape from the norm
Most men want a motorbike
I am your crisis.
Once upon an under edited and somewhat jaded,
female’s mid-life crisis
she sat down to contemplate the options of all her
“age appropriate” vices’
“Debauchery deficient”, “depravity bereft”,she
was "tragically prosaic”.
sadly ending her self-indulgent deprecation
with,“pitifully archaic”
Upon further diagnosis and self
evaluation, she concluded
she had neither mid-life crisis nor deficiency,
but was brazenly deluded!
Severe results of this delusion;
insomnia induced proliferation:
this excessively verbose and heinously,
superfluous pontification!
He’s having a big mid life crisis
It’s a bit late, I grant you, but true
It should have begun in his forties
And not when he hit eighty two
When he traded his wife for a new one
(She is thirty years younger, or more)
The old one was getting quite past it
So he told her, and showed her the door
He now spends his time, with fine dining and wine
And all of life’s pleasures and joys
From Italian suits and dying his roots
To a house full of gadgets and toys
In the garage there sits a big Harley
And whenever the weather is sunny
He jumps on his hack, with his bird on the back
And they go out and spend loadsa money
But he’s not such a big hairy biker
Since when they return from the trip
He’ll sit down in front of the fire
For a cocoa, and afternoon kip
As his old aching bones start rebelling
And he ponders upon his past life
All the things he has done, the women the fun
But most, how he misses his wife
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