VOL. XVI, NO. 8
FEBRUARY 14, 1975
Growing Old
By BEVERLY KONOP
Happiness is knowing
That someone will care
And still give a ___
If I am still there.
In the year 2040
I'll be 80 years old;
I won't be so young,
And I won't be so bold.
My world will move
At a much slower pace.
But I'd still like to know,
That I still have my place.
I still wish to function
And to think on my own.
I don't wish to live
In some good nursing home.
I'm unafraid of dying,
Of becoming dead and cold,
But the thing that really scares me
Is, one day, I, too, will be growing old.
Happiness is knowing
That someone will care
And still give a ___
If I am still there.
In the year 2040
I'll be 80 years old;
I won't be so young,
And I won't be so bold.
My world will move
At a much slower pace.
But I'd still like to know,
That I still have my place.
I still wish to function
And to think on my own.
I don't wish to live
In some good nursing home.
I'm unafraid of dying,
Of becoming dead and cold,
But the thing that really scares me
Is, one day, I, too, will be growing old.
