Journal of Gerontological Nursing

Poetry 

CONFESSIONS OF A "CODGER"

Becky Bak

Abstract

is it too late to live,

To look forward to a sunrise?

To make lotie with mounting passion,

That never seems to subside?

Age is just a number,

My mind is still alive.

Don't pronounce me dead, before my time,

I'm choosing to survive!

My skin is parched and wrinkled

But the beauty underneath,

Is as sparkling and refreshing jj .

As a baby's first few teeth.

Don't whisper that I'm senile,

That's just another myth.

Just like the one that's going around,

"Old folks are no fun to be with."

My body cannot disco, ,

And neither can it run.

But that's no reason to tell me

That my "dancing" days are done!

Becky Bak…

is it too late to live,

To look forward to a sunrise?

To make lotie with mounting passion,

That never seems to subside?

Age is just a number,

My mind is still alive.

Don't pronounce me dead, before my time,

I'm choosing to survive!

My skin is parched and wrinkled

But the beauty underneath,

Is as sparkling and refreshing jj .

As a baby's first few teeth.

Don't whisper that I'm senile,

That's just another myth.

Just like the one that's going around,

"Old folks are no fun to be with."

My body cannot disco, ,

And neither can it run.

But that's no reason to tell me

That my "dancing" days are done!

Becky Bak

10.3928/0098-9134-19801001-13

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