Sitting here together,
waiting to be told,
yet another symptom
that we’re getting old.
Hoping that the news
won’t stick us to the chair
and leave us feeling
well beyond repair.
Where have the days gone
that we didn’t have a worry.
Now everyone
is living life
in a constant hurry.
They don’t appreciate
all that they have got,
instead too busy
complaining about their lot.
The day will come
and they’ll be sitting here,
then they’ll realise
the price they paid
was way too dear.

Beautiful poem
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Thanks.
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