When I'm 90 will I celebrate? Will the cake be beautifully done? Iced, with candles, burning like a sun. Will I sweetly smile, do as I'm bid Blow with one huge breath To still the flames; wield a knife Cut through its centre Napkin carefully placed on lap, Yet all I want is to take my nap.
Will champagne corks pop, Will birthday wishes fill the air? Voices sing out of tune, yet unaware. Will I take my glass, sip its bubbles Smile my "thank you"s, So as not to offend. Receive more kisses From those who care Then quietly sleep in my lonely chair.
© Jennifer Annetts
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