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Delightful past; I must leave you far behind,
For I grow old and time is so unkind.
For now I cannot fight I must away!
And think of kind tomorrow and of today.
There is more to do; much I have not done,
To stagnate here is not a lot of fun.
I've verse to write; new friends to seek and find,
I have good hands and I am not yet blind.
The past is for the future folk to plan,
The young and fit tomorrows fighting man,
For politicians, the new boys on the block,
To make the rules and set the changing clock.
Because soon enough it will be another's turn,
To pass through time; the midnight oil to burn.
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