I am too old to work and too young to stop. What if I outlive my savings?

Do the Math

Add up the numbers
Divide by Pi
Take the square root
And start again.
But there are
Too many variables
Too many X's
Too many unknowns.
The answer remains obscure.

And the consequence
Of being wrong ,
Of out living your money?
A place on the couch
At your son's place,
A spot under a bridge,
A cot at the mission
If they still have funding
For missions by then?

You look out the window
And watch the planes
Float silently by.
Off to warm and sunny places
Where big bottomed girls
Walk white beaches
In small, very small bathing suits.

I get another piece of paper
And do the calculation again!

Poetry by Budart
Read 951 times
Written on 2012-08-05 at 02:52

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How I relate to this. It's not "if" it's "when." I grew up with my grandmother living with us, but three-generation households are rare now. My father died the month his money ran out, and though he had Alzheimer's it was as if he somehow knew. May I follow his example.