The Senior Volunteer


They used to call us handicapped
Today, the word's disabled.
We even get a yellow pass
To ride upon the cable

To save our worn arthritic feet
We're lucky to have special seats
Who knows? A faint or fall or slip
Could break an arm or leg or hip.

Like ants we trail into the city
Some dare to ride their bikes in!
A waste of talents is a pity
For we have been enlightened.

We represent the world you see,
We fancy perfect harmony.
For those who only give, do cheer
And thank God for the Volunteer.

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