Turning Thirty

          I dreamed of being sweet sixteen
          Then magic twenty-one
          But suddenly I'm twenty-nine
          And seeing thirty come.
          My baby sitter calls me "ma'am"
          It makes me feel quite numb
          How can I think of me as old?
          I've always been so young

          Once I could name the "top ten" songs
          Played on the radio,
          And now I turn the rock groups down
          Or hunt for something slow.
          Now there are lines around my eyes
          I thought would never show.
          And pounds that used to be above
          my waist have sunk below.

          The boy I worshipped as a teen
          Now lies beside me snoring.
          His middle's thicker -- so is mine,
          And he is not so adoring.
          He used to worship at my feet;
          now mostly he's ignoring.
          I once clung to his every word,
          Now sometimes he is boring

          I was depressed to see how fast
          My youthful days could flee,
          and then I met a fine old man
          His age was eighty-three.
          His hair was white, his walk was slow,
          And he could barely see.
          He called me "child" and said he wished
          He was as young as me.

~ Sharon Yates Lyerly ~

[ by: Sharon Yates Lyerly -- from 'Aiken Drum' (Aiken@AikensLaughs.com) ]


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