My Retirement Years' (For everyone over 62!)
Has anyone else noticed
the new working standards and means?
for those of retirement years, is this what it seems?
That if your able bodied to still work
your employer makes your job harder and act like jerks?
They take you aside and tell you your doing bad
this makes for your day, to be unproductive, quite empty and sad!
You've given them, some of the best years of your life!
So you could have two and a half children, a home and a wife.
But now the environment, your working in cause
walking through your humble abode
with your hands, in outstretching of claws!
I'm over the hill they say, not wanted anymore!
they'd like to have me get so upset
That I would walk out their door!
I thought at the end, retierment, would be my choice to make?
and not that done by some hired henchman
doing companies, pain in the butt heart breaks!
I didn't give all my best years
so I would be treated like crap!
I'll stand my ground, if I have to take it to the TOP!
And then they'll all see, just where
this so called old bucks going to stop!
No company is so big, that they can treat me like this!
I am an American who fought, so this company could even exist!
If they have a profit to make, don't take it out of me!
I fought for this country, so all people could have choices and be FREE!
Don't mess with me, I'm an American retirement age man!
And when I'm darn good and ready!
I'LL CHOSE, when I blow this pop stand!
poem by Linda Winchell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Kiwi Dave
For forty five years I've been working and I'm just an unfettered slave
And I have gray hairs to show for it I am quoting Kiwi Dave
Five years to go to retirement I was sixty last birthday
And ever since I've started working it's been uphill all the way.
My ex wife said that I was a drinker that I was too fond of the booze
That was her excuse for leaving she said I was born to lose
But I take it in moderation after work three or four beers
And I've been a slave for her and for my children for close to if not twenty years.
Fifteen years ago she left me and she went to live with younger bloke
She got more than half my assets for years to her haven't spoke
She turned my son and daughter against me and my six grandchildren I don't see
And I will spend my usual Christmas on my own watching T.V.
Kiwi Dave is a good person though just a little soured by life
And things for him would have been better had he had a faithful wife
'A woman she can make or break you' with that who could disagree
Dave could see the truth in those words for who would know better than he? .
For forty five years he's been working the hard worker Kiwi
Dave
And for his ex wife and his children for years he has been a slave
He looks older far than sixty the hard life has made him gray
Five more years left till retirement it's been uphill all the way.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Workaholic
He retired from his job on his sixty fifth birthday
But he did not enjoy the work free life
And he died just nine months into his retirement
To be mourned by his family and his wife.
It has been said he was a workaholic
And that he was one who worked as hard as two
And he felt bored without a job to go to
And he pined away as many like him do.
His problem was he did not have a hobby
And a working life the life he loved and knew
A good man for his wife and family and his Country
But good men just like bad men must die too.
For forty seven years he worked for the same employers
And to the end to his bosses was true
His parting gift from them a wrist watch and box of chocolates
And a well done and a shake hands and thank you.
He must have been one who truly liked his bosses
To have worked for them for forty seven years
His last day on the job it was his saddest
And as he left he fought to choke the tears.
His problem was that he did not have a hobby
And he only lived for each working day
And when he left the workforce in his sixties
He fell into ill health and pined away.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Retirement Blues
After thirty years of working -
I thought I had it made -
I said to myself-
I'll lie in the shade-
I'll read half the day-
And sleep the rest-
My wife had the notion-
That she alone knew best-
She said mow the lawn-
And go and walk the dog-
You're lying around here-
Getting far as a hog-
My dreams of relaxation-
Went right up in smoke-
I found that retirement-
Was only a joke-
I'm really still working-
For the rest of my life-
The only difference now-
The boss is my wife.
poem by Joy Thacker
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Is That All There Is?
'Is this all there is too life? '
I over heard my husband say.
I worked and slaved my life away,
And worked for little pay.
Now I am retired, and working harder then, I ever did before.
Is this all there is?
I thought there would be so much more!
I am lucky if I'll live till I'm old,
All my friends I knew did not!
Is that what we had all worked our lives for,
And what is it we have got?
Cars' not paid for, the morgage still due,
Had to take a loan on the house,
For those braces for son Drew.
I am walking a bit much slower,
My legs and feet have pain.
How much longer do I have too work,
I was'nt looking at doing this again!
Retirement is not as our Fathers' knew,
When they retired, and sailed the oceans blue!
Mom and Dad got a ticket and traveled,
They enjoyed those Golden Years,
Only enjoyed and known by few!
Is this all there is?
Because I wanted to enjoy my end years with you,
I guess I'll make the best of what we've got,
You have me, and I'm blessed to have you!
poem by Linda Winchell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sting of Conscience
Others may look forward
to take their retirement, enjoy
their lives as they wish, but
I am looking forward
to another twenty years
for working and progress
No house to spend the summers
from april to november
where can I spent the winters?
More than twenty-five years gone by - friends
who joined government offices
started business or joined in politics
They've already made their fortunes:
good houses, cars, luxuries
bank balances - for me nothing yet.
Still working in a private company.
Like my late father the bureaucratic job
I left on the questions of morality
People keep telling me, it is time to retire
taking rest, travelling to europe for pleasure,
sight seeing - but my conscience
Reminds me to think twice
of my sober wife. Where can I find
a little roof over her head?
How can I think of my retirement
or peaceful departure from this
grim and selfish earth?
poem by Mahmoodul Haque Sayed
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our government makes the simple promise of a secure retirement to every American who works for many years and contributes to our retirement benefit system.
My Simple Award
I was informed just lately
That I am among those to be called
Who will be rewarded a service pin?
For having served for twenty five years
An accolade for doing public service
Is quite an honor for being recognized
But like five years ago when I did not
Come up to the stage to receive such
For me it is not important
To receive with any award
For what I do is simply my job
To perform what I was trained for
It makes me sad to learn now
After twenty five years of working
I will be called in front of the public
To accept the fact that soon I have to go
Retirement is a bonus phase in life
Forced to give up work for becoming old
Aging marks that sooner one's life will end
My youth used up for service is my sole bliss
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Working Man
Close your eyes my weary one
Rest your head and sleep
Although your day is done
Tomorrow, you might sit and weep.
Because outside your window,
There stand many barren trees
Looking like the empty hopes,
With the leaves, dying like dreams.
I have live many years
Seen and shed many tears,
With bloody hands and busted bones,
And I have heard, that painful moan.
So rest your head my tired Man
And close your eyes and cry,
Because many families I have seen fed,
When only the Fathers had died.
And I have seen the working man
Working hard with other men at their side,
While fighting to protect and defend what they own
With only GOD, upon their side.
So close you're eyes a father
Clasp your hands together and pray,
Pray for your wife and for your Children
And pray to greet them another day.
As we have fought the battles
To put our country back on her feet
But now again, we are forsaken
So close your eyes, and weep.
But then their is your Family
And the home where you do live,
Be proud you were there when tomorrow came
And many will be proud, that you had lived.
Open your eyes my weary one
Stand up and clap your hand
Be proud of what that you have built
But be prouder because you are a working Man.
So give a laugh and and then give a cheer
For together once again we made our stand,
And forget about your worries and your fears
Because GOD does not forsake, a working Man.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Forty Plus Years
forty plus years
of working day
and night...
and all i have
to show for it is...
the dust in my pockets,
holes in my jeans,
and a stack of bills
i cant pay...
no insurance,
no retirement,
no house on the hill....
just another victim
of the American Dream!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stand Aside John Howard
Stand aside John Howard and leave some one else take over you've had your go and you've failed to impress
For seven years you've been Prime Minister of Australia and without you there would be more happiness
The Country would be better off without you and you've clung to power in such a sneaky way
History will treat you less kind than did the Aussie voters
It's time perhaps that you called it a day.
As a leader you have only been divisive and you'll always be
seen as a lesser light
The Country now needs someone with more goodwill a leader whom the people behind can unite
You fought the last election on boat people and you've clung to power by preying on the voters fears
Move over John leave someone else take over you've only caused mistrust in seven years
If you feel the Country cannot do without you here's news for you John you have got it wrong
You are just an old style tory politician and back there in the fifties you belong
Australia will go on no matter who comes or goes and the Country will do nicely without you
Stand aside John and take your huge retirement packet a good
P.M. Aussies are overdue.
Stand aside John Howard for you have had your innings and you've clung to power in your own cunning way
You won your last election at the expense of boat people on the fears of Aussie voters you seized your chance to prey
Your Government demonised misplaced people and as a P.M. you have been so small
And you have sullied an Australian icon the Aussie belief in a fair go for all.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Odyssey Of An Old Man
The old man shuffled along the sidewalk on worn-out shoes.
Shoes once so shiny, that you could see your face in them.
Long ago the original owner had tossed them in a dumpster,
where the old man found them.
How had the old man come to this?
It was not that long ago he was living the “American dream”.
He had it all…wealth, position and family.
But now he walked the streets aimlessly, like some phantasm.
A corrupt economic system and Company down-size broke him;
35 years of loyal service to a Company was rewarded with layoff,
only a few months before retirement.
Wall Street criminals had already robbed the old man of his retirement.
Unaffordable interest rates from an “Adjustable Rate Mortgage”,
made payments impossible. The bank foreclosed.
Unable to secure another job in his specialty field along with the harsh truth,
that nobody wanted to hire a man pushing 62 sealed his economic doom.
The broken man took to drinking. First it was red wine and beer,
and eventually…anything cheap.
His wife ran away with an old high school sweetheart and moved to Florida.
The old man’s children had left home years before and though painful,
were spared the trauma of mom and dad’s divorce.
Living on the street wasn’t so bad. The burden of day to day struggle,
to make a living had lifted and liberated him. The dumpster behind,
a downtown restaurant provided meals and a nearby freeway overpass
provided shelter.
Eventually the old man saw no need to drink because the old memories,
and negative events had faded. This gave him more time to think and just be.
Yes…life wasn’t bad at all.
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Must Be An Easier Way
To earn one's living there must be an easier way
Than working in a menial job for menial pay
You age so fast your hair prematurely gray
And you must work hard till your retirement day.
When you ask the boss for a raise his answer no
For a raise in pay you must have more to show
The unemployed are many and the jobs are few
And there's plenty more to do the job you do.
At 5.30 a m each work day from bed I rise
Before daylight has lit the morning skies
Then long drive to work in smoky old work van
Such is the lot of the common working man.
The chap next door seems better off than I
He does not work yet life he does enjoy
Whilst I'm at work he rest at home in bed
And he doesn't look deprived or underfed
With six year old son and a non working wife
He live an easy and a stress free life
And I've heard it said that he's never worked a day
But good luck to him is all that I can say.
I do not receive or seek sympathy
For there are many far worse off than me
But living life would be a lot more fun
If I did not have to rise before the sun
poem by Francis Duggan
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On Retirement
A celebrated life transition, is retirement,
Freed from the daily grind of requirement.
You are released to a life of leisure,
Hence you should feel free, this to treasure.
You'd have finished your duties to your children,
And should be glad to baby-sit your grand children.
To holy places you can go on a pilgrimage,
When your mind will be charged with good image.
Plan your personal financial planning,
Ensuring that considerable amount is in saving.
Life will allow you to yourself re-invent,
Working in your golden years with content.
It's time to live with a sense of self respect and dignity,
And can pursue your dreams with all possibility.
Engage yourself in a work of your choice,
Secluding yourself from all worldly noise.
You should allot a time each day, glorious,
And employ yourself to work meritorious.
Only thing to be looked after is your health,
Which is above all monetary wealth.
Even for a minor and wee indisposition,
You should meet the doctor for his prescription.
You should essentially, a good physique be maintaining,
With the aid of meditation, yoga, pranayama and walking.
You should stay socially connected and value best,
Strong quality of human relationships with zest.
Contingent acts of kindness to one and all,
Will make you glad and answer others' call.
Having spent a long tenure at work place,
This is the time to enjoy your twilight days.
How you adjust to retirement over-all, for better or worse,
Gives you the happiness in this phase of life, considered adverse.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Retirement
For fifty years I've laboured away
working towards my retirement day.
And all that time I'm glad to say
God has provided my needs for each day.
So as I enter this retirement phase
my heart is full of gladness and of praise.
For, God Who's been with me all the way
will walk with me ‘til my final day.
Then through heaven's gate we shall go
where the songs of angels eternal flow.
There with the saints I'll sing my praise
before the throne of the Ancient of days.
The Best Of The Years
My childhood was a great delight,
In fact, it was pure dynamite.
My teenage years were filled with joy,
There were the girls - I was a boy.
My middle years - beyond compare,
A pretty wife - three children fair.
And as I reached maturity,
All things kept going well for me.
And now retirement with my wife,
We have a pleasant, happy life,
With family and friends galore,
I really couldn't ask for more.
But as I sit in pensive thought,
And wonder what my life has wrought,
Which were the best of all the years,
With mostly smiles and fewest tears?
My vote to old age, I must give,
Considering the alternative!
poem by Charles J Sexton
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Bad Company
Company, always on the run
Destiny is the rising sun
I was born six gun in my hand
Behind the gun I make my final stand
That's why they call me
Bad company, I can't deny
Bad, bad company
'Til the day I die
Rebel soul, deserters we are called
Chose a gun and threw away the sword
Now these towns, they all know our names
Six gun sound is our claim to fame
I can hear 'em say
Bad company, and I won't deny
Bad, bad company
'Til the day I die
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pre-Retired
Well I'm almost there ya know
that full retirement kinda place.
I'm not old enough to collect any money
can't find a job, with age lines upon my face!
So I guess I'm pre-retired?
I don't have another name, yet for it!
But if this is what retirement is like
where all you do is, just write poems and sit!
Then I'd rather be ten feet under
or something sorta like that!
I use to have a great figure
now all I am is a ball of, pre-retired FAT!
Wife still is working full time
and she looks a lot better than me!
She stays out all night after working
with her girlfriends, not me!
I'm boring I guess, and feel out of place
no real purpose felt anymore.
I use to be a manager of twelve employees
in a large, retail discount store!
So don't tell me about retirement!
and how great it is for you!
It stinks to be pre-retired
and think when my full retirement comes
It won't feel anything like you!
poem by Linda Winchell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Arthritic Johnny
He's worked for bosses all of his working life poor Johnny
And now he walks with the aid of walking cane
His fingers bent and knobby from arthritis
And he feels stiff all over from work strain.
From his drainer job he took early retirement
Four years ago when he was sixty one
He could not carry on due to arthritis
Magnified by the hard labouring he had done.
Those who grew wealthy out of his exertions
Ignore him now when they meet on the street
He's made life better for their sons and daughters
Yet he's a stranger to them when they meet.
Perhaps they feel that they don't owe him any
That's for services rendered to them he's been paid
But of course they won't admit to the vast fortunes
Out of him and others like him they have made.
To afford him any sort of recognition
Would be admitting to him that they owe
So every time they see arthritic Johnny
He's one of those that they don't pretend to know.
All his working years he's laboured for his bosses
And he has work stiffnes to show for his gain
And his hands and legs are paining from arthritis
And he walks around with the aid of walking cane
poem by Francis Duggan
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Survivor
Now that you're out of my life
I'm so much better
You thought that I'd be weak without you
But I'm stronger
You thought that I'd be broke without you
But I'm richer
You thought that I'd be sad without you
I laugh harder
You thought I wouldn't grow without you
Now I'm wiser
Though that I'd be helpless without you
But I'm smarter
You thought that I'd be stressed without you
But I'm chillin'
You thought I wouldn't sell without you
Sold 9 million
I'm a survivor (What?)
I'm not gon give up (What?)
I'm not gon stop (What?)
I'm gon work harder (What?)
I'm a survivor (What?)
I'm gonna make it (What?)
I will survive (What?)
Keep on survivin' (What?)
I'm a survivor (What?)
I'm not gon give up (What?)
I'm not gon stop (What?)
I'm gon work harder (What?)
I'm a survivor (What?)
I'm gonna make it (What?)
I will survive (What?)
Keep on survivin' (What?)
Thought I couldn't breathe without
I'm inhaling
You thought I couldn't see without you
Perfect vision
You thought I couldn't last without you
But I'm lastin'
You thought that I would die without you
But I'm livin'
Thought that I would fail without you
But I'm on top
Thought it would be over by now
But it won't stop
Thought that I would self destruct
But I'm still here
Even in my years to come
I'm still gon be here
I'm a survivor (What?)
I'm not gon give up (What?)
I'm not gon stop (What?)
I'm gon work harder (What?)
I'm a survivor (What?)
I'm gonna make it (What?)
I will survive (What?)
Keep on survivin' (What?)
I'm a survivor (What?)
I'm not gon give up (What?)
I'm not gon stop (What?)
I'm gon work harder (What?)
I'm a survivor (What?)
I'm gonna make it (What?)
I will survive (What?)
Keep on survivin' (What?)
I'm wishin' you the best
Pray that you are blessed
Bring much success
song performed by by Destiny's Child from Survivor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Future of the Country
Tears in the eyes,
Fear on the face,
I often see children working,
Roads being there workplace.
Unwillingly doing work,
By the fear of being scolded
Or beaten by their employers
I see children working for bread.
Messy hair, torn clothes,
Children walking bare feet
And working really hard
Not caring about the rain or heat.
Children doing all sorts of jobs
Including selling and begging.
I have also seen children
Cleaning cars for an earning.
I feel sorry for them.
I feel it is very unfair,
That people make children work
When they should take their care.
Children are delicate,
We must care for them.
For every child in the world
Is as precious as a gem.
At least thinking about the country,
We must stop child labour.
We must stop burdening the children
As they are the country's future.
poem by Sneha Khedkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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