A badge of great honor
We wear it with pride,
They say it’s an insult
But we’ll let that one slide.

A boomer’s a doer
A person with Pep,
Marching alone
To their own special step.

The children of Giants
Who lived through a war
Instilling in us
The passion to soar.

They call us great bores
Whose opinions don’t count,
Incongruous has-beens
Our words they discount.

Little they know
It’s a wheel that does turn,
With each generation
Another to spurn.

Suffice it to add
We’re fine in our skin,
Whatever is said
They’ll still be our kin.

Millennials are brash
They message and tweet,
But most just innocuous,
In-fact rather sweet.

They look at their parents
The way we did ours,
With fresh consternation
Like brief summer showers.

When all’s said and done
For boomers like us,
There’s nothing more pleasing
Than life without fuss.