It’s so nice to be sixty four.
The men don’t bother me anymore
I can walk anywhere that I like in a store
And they don’t speak and stare like they did before.
It was hard to be twenty one.
Sometimes I just wanted to have fun.
I’d see men coming and try to run.
It was hard to be twenty-one.
As I got older and put on weight,
I noticed not so many men on my plate,
But still they’d speak and pretend to be bait,
Their attention I still did not escape.
A few wrinkles came upon my face,
Followed by gray hairs that did not look out of place,
I no longer had to carry my mace,
I did not have to walk with such haste.
And now that I’m sixty-four,
And the men don’t bother me anymore,
I can walk anywhere in the store,
And not get approached like I did before.
by Constance Barr Corbett
who just had a lovely trip to the grocery store.