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Your Poem.

It's All Greek to Me I met a man the other day I hadn't seen for ages.

But we seemed to talk in jargon, as we went through our back pages.

It's water under the bridge, the past is dead and gone Time has taken it's toll, we move back to square one.

The bacon's coming home, don't bury your head in the sand.

Who was Jack Robinson? Did he have a bird in his hand? Life's not all beer and skittles, and who said at forty it begins? I flew by the seat of my pants, didn't pick up lucky pins.

I often went to the foot of our stairs and bought a pig in a poke.

When it comes to the crunch, there's nowt so queer as folk.

I've laughed the other side of my face, if the truth be told.

We all pray for long life, but do not want to grow old.

Age doesn't bring wisdom, that's the way it seems.

Some people say I live my life by cliches, well you can tell that to the marines.

by John Fowler, via email

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Publication:Liverpool Echo (Liverpool, England)
Date:Apr 12, 2018
Words:187
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