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They tell us we must downsize:  now, post-haste,
To rid ourselves of that which they call clutter.
Have they not learnt, what seems to some like waste
Might well be others’ daily bread and butter?
“You just might fall, and break a hip.  Disaster!
Let’s move you now – you’ll see, you’ll like it fine.”
I say, perhaps.  I’ll risk a limb in plaster,
And meanwhile, you live your life, I’ll live mine.

Beware believing that you give a boost to
Us old folks, not yet set to buy the farm,
As moving us from everything we’re used to
Is likely not to help, but do us harm.
I ask you, to us seniors try to cater;
Don’t take away the things that we hold dear.
We know we cannot take them with us later,
But please let us enjoy them while we’re here.