Here you will find a friend birthday poem that will bring laughter and joy. Show your friend how much you care and value your friendship.
The other day my Sister Joan,
Contacted me by telephone,
To tell me of a wondrous trip,
She’d taken to the Vegas Strip.
For coming soon there was for Joan,
The not so happy milestone,
Of turning forty and no doubt,
My sister Joan was freaking out.
For weeks she endlessly complained,
While driving all who heard insane,
That one day soon she’d wake at dawn,
To find her youth forever gone.
But home from the Las Vegas scene,
My sister Joan seemed quite serene,
For there she bought to ease her loss,
A tour book by E. Kubler-Ross,
Which mapped the sites to find relief,
And navigate each stage of grief.
Now first, Joan said I stayed a while,
At MGM s Hotel Denial,
Where all day long it's no surprise,
I basked in self-deluded lies.
"You re only as old as you feel!"
I shouted with affected zeal,
Along with other fibs aplenty,
Like, "Forty s really the new twenty!"
And, "God! I look so young and fit!
You know, I haven’t changed a bit!"
Feeling good I went to scrounge,
Up cocktails at The Anger Lounge,
The Vegas bar scene looking bleak,
I strolled into a posh boutique,
For sadness quite often brings,
The urge to do some bargaining.
I queried, feigning self esteem,
How much to buy that wrinkle cream?
Or do you think you could supply,
A bit of botox on the sly?
Famished from my self-obsession,
I dined at La Maison de Pression,
With renowned chef, the grandiose,
And aptly named Monsieur Morose,
Tonight, he said, our sad menu,
Includes my favorite, Hopeless Stew.
We start with tears plucked from your face,
And add them to a Prozac base,
Then very finely we anoint,
It with a spice called what’s the point.
So tell me please, when you decide,
For I’ll be on the ledge outside,
I got the sense my meal was done,
When Morose dialed 911.
And so I thought it time to go,
Back into town to catch a show,
Out on the strip a grand display,
Read: Midlife Crisis de Soleil.
And underneath, the stern reprise,
Acceptance of One s Own Demise,
And then I realized that’s it!
This woman doesn’t give a wit!
When forty came, she didn’t frown,
She ponied up and doubled down!
And after that I felt okay,
For finally I had found my way,
And cast aside these aging fears,
At least for ten or twenty years.
www.special-birthday-poems.com
By Mark Shaughnessy