A Sixty Five Year Old Rhymer

A sixty five year old rhymer my best days long gone But the urge to rhyme in me i will keep on rhyming on Till the Reaper of lives claims the life's breath from me Sometime in the near future whenever that will be Some do advise me for to give rhyming away But any heed to their advice i never does pay The best of advice the addictive never heed And in the addictive rhymer to rhyme there is the need The urge to rhyme in me i cannot deny And like rabbits my rhymes do seem to multiply Every waking day more rhymes i do write And then email them off to an internet site Some men do grow older but they never grow wise I must be of that sort i have come to realize.