Precious Metal

I don’t know when it happened
But somehow I got old
Everything turned silver
When it once was gold

Except the music that I love
Is now all ‘golden oldies’
But to me it is as fresh
As this year’s new-sprung daisies!

I used to be unlabeled
Upon the internet
Now I’m a ‘silver surfer’
A term I much regret.

Yet e’en as my hair turns silver
I’m in my golden years
Though I see little reason
To grace it with such cheer

For all this precious metal
Is pointless simile
I’m as poor as the proverbial
No silver or gold for me!

E.M. Swift-Hook

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