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.


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