And Now I'll Rest Poem by Phil Soar

I sat behind a desk when I was four
My chair was always screeching on the floor
And life's the same now that I'm sixty-four
Sitting at a desk eight hours and more

But now I have the gout and aches and pains
My chair has small dark patches from tea stains
And all this work is boring and it drains
The wit and things I've learnt inside my brains

At school, the teacher often praised my wit
But now my boss is really sick of it
And though no longer young and full of zest
I think it's time for me to have a rest