The Gray Panther
A girl at the office called me “Sir” today,
A scout volunteered to lead the way,
Too bad the kids don’t realize
I’m much too young to patronize.
My hair is thinning– slightly gray,
It makes me dashing– in a debonair way;
My clothes are tight, and I hang loose—
Don’t ignore this dashing goose;
Lines are appearing– the smiling kind,
They really go well with candies and wine;
No longer do I sprint in life’s great race,
I win every time with my steady pace.
While the youngsters dream and talk up a storm,
I’m making hay while the days are warm;
Too bad they don’t have the wisdom to see
That their generation should be like me!
