The problem with growing old is what you become in the eyes of others.
And for men it’s harder.
Women are always what they have been….sisters, aunties, wives, and mothers.
Keepers of the larder.
But when a man retires, he is no more,
No more what he was
He’s just a bore
Who talks on things because
There isn’t anything else to do with all that accumulated knowledge.
At this point, ‘old’, you stop, or, you carry on.
And if you ‘carry on’,
There’s no concession, no quarter
No respite, just shorter
You’re old and in the way.
You have nothing of value to say
It’s a young man’s game.
But if you quit…..retire…desist…
It’s worse…you cease to exist.
You are not what you were…..all that stops….in a blink of the eye.
You are old and in the way
You have nothing of value to say.
This has to stop. Let battle commence.