I'll be one year younger having missed my birthday and my mirror confirms it; so what's wrong with that.

I'll be one year younger having missed my birthday and my mirror confirms it; so what's wrong with that.

I remember the day I started school; my mother's tears as I skipped away; birthdays with candles on the cake, too soon too many abandoned for the mess they made.

Go to bed when summers ends, what a good idea; wake up bright and early when birds announce its spring.

Booze is flowing all unknowing; grandma downs a few, smiles and giggles happily enjoying her new brew.