Happy Birthday, Danny R.
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Though the timing is rather uncanny,
Happy Birthday, I say, poet Danny.
On another year's crest
it may BE for the best
if you sat on that day on your fanny.
Turning old is a product of fate.
It's a mental/emotional state.
And just think of the kicks
when you're seventy six.
Your'e still growing at age forty-eight.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş