Here's a poem I wrote about retirement and I blamed it on a guy named “Slim”.
Slim
When it came to retiring
Here’s what he had to say.
It’s something you can do more than once
And in a lot of different ways.
But sometimes just thinking about it
Can get you in one hell of a mess.
You might find yourself
on a new quest.
With a lot more time to get
A lot less done
While racing along with the sun.
Some people start each day with nothing to do
And have it half done by noon
But that wasn’t for Old Slim I guess
He sometimes didn’t get started ‘til noon
But still loved a good quest.
He said, “All you are is what you’ve done,
So you better stay busy before the sun sinks too low
Or you might end up with nothing to show.”
He lived his life
Not like some of the rest
Right or wrong he did things
The way he felt was the best.
When it comes to Old Slim
A lot more could be said
He didn’t really retire
‘Til his life was all done.
He’d ran one hell of a race
With that old setting sun.