Our car, among the classics
Our things, became antique
We, turned into relics
And our friends, befit a clique
Our cottage, now the hermitage
Our home, is a relique
Our life, will be a heritage
And when we talk, it’s a critique
What we do, has grown archaic
Our habits, turned oblique
Our thinking, esoteric
But now, we are unique
WIZDUMBs by JA 418
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