Why Grandpa

Why did they make a grandpa outa me?

I hardly think it’s fair. Why can’t you see,

They’ve subtly went and took away my youth,

For I’m only forty-nine to tell the truth.

What is this awful thing they’ve went and done?

For me it seems that life had just begun.

The sun shines as brightly as of yore,

No clouds of doom seems hanging o e’r my door,

The world seems just as rosy and as gay,

I hadn’t even thought of getting gray.

I can hardly believe it’s true. No-siree.

Why did they make a grandpa outa me?

Now they’ve pulled the punch out, so it seems,

They’ve robbed the honey outa my best dreams,

The marrow seems to have left my very bones,

My ears no longer catch the more gentler tones,

I fairly shrink with horror and with dread,

When I try to slip a comb o e’r my bald head.

There seems to be a weakness in my knee,

I guess my back ain’t quite as strong as it used to be,

And if, per chance, a book I’d try to read,

I have to don some specs er’r I succeed.

No right had they to do this thing you see.

Why did they make a grandpa outa me?

But when I look into the little shaver’s face,

I can hardly keep a smile from creeping o’er my face,

He fairly teems with brightness and with hope.

Why in the world should anybody grope,

Why frown and cast my eyes upon the ground,

Or let the boogy chase me round and round?

Upon a brighter star I’ll fix my gaze,

For now I’ve got a new grandson to raise.

He’ll be the inspiration and the joy,

That’ll make me feel I’m once again a boy.

And that, dear folks, you can plainly see,

Is why they made a grandpa outa me.

E.E.S.