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poet707747


 Still Building at Fifty-Seven

While most folks my age are complaining of arthritis and old age,
Looking for a rocking chair,  remembering the way things were.
Athletes now are watching others, sitting on the couch drinking a beer;
Tired from the rigors of life, being torn down by the sands of time.

I stare into the mirror and I see a young man looking back at me;
Not being satisfied with what was, speaking of the good old days.
I am driven to reach beyond where I have ever been within my life,
Reaching for the stars, stronger at this moment than I have ever been.

Building layer upon layer of muscle unto my frame, I grow for the sky;
Limitless is my heart, motivated is my soul, powerful are my loins.
Cell by cell, I build this edifice of effort and sweat, strong and lean;
Athletic is the heart within my body, I'm not ready to quit pushing.

Repetition after concentrated repetition, heavier today than last week,
The boundaries that time places on my body are torn down by me.
I am a body builder, not ready for the la-z-boy, I work with intensity;
I love the compliment; dang, you look good for someone your age.

25Apr09


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