I never thought it would end like this,
my golden years should have been bliss.
Instead I find that I'm not doing so well,
going through the motions, my own kind of hell.
I get up each morning and face another day
of trying to make a living, earn my pay;
More month than money is not a joke,
it gets harder to live for us older folk.
A nowhere job with the minimum wage
supplements the income of old age;
social insecurity, end of life notions,
still I keep on, going through the motions.
Poverty exists, wolves at the door -
I don't ask much, but I'd like a bit more;
keeping my chin up is a daily task,
if you don't understand, please don't ask.
I let it happen, falling in to despair,
how it happened, do you really care?
Life and hard times have taken a toll,
going through the motions, on a roll.
There was a time when I sailed the oceans
instead of just going through the motions.
I can't go back and change a thing,
I live with the pain that age can bring.
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