As 'That Day' approaches:
I don't acknowledge birthdays any more,
but sometimes when my DOB arrives
I raise a glass -or maybe four or five-
(after I've determined that I'm STILL alive!)
knowing that before too long I'll 'pass'
this old dude doesn't covet gifts or pelf,
instead, I simply hoist my foamy glass,
and wish a happy 'burpday' to my own darn self!
-GL
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