For days and days I have been locked in
my own dark and dank dungeon doing dastardly deeds
The usual things of framing walls,
running electrical cables, and putting up drywall and all
Even upon the day which I should heave
been blissfully celebrating the anniversary of my birth
Singing Voltaire's “Happy Birthday,
My Old Friend” and sharing similar merriment and mirth
But, no, there were greater things
afoot
Deeds that needed be done
For that night's celebration had to be
postponed as on the morrow
A gent would visit to assess the house
and tell the bank what our abode was worth and what against it
we could borrow
Along the way, on that day, the
anniversary of mine own birth, I found that many friends did take
time to recall and send word
By message, text, and even bird (yes,
the New Jersey State Bird)
Loved ones, friends, both new and old,
said to me those gentle loving words
“You damn sure are old!”
Thank you, one and all!!
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