My birthday is this Tuesday.
I will spend it recovering from taxes.
Oh, such fun is my birthday!
I will be fifty-nine years old.
Too young to die,
Too old to work at IBM.
My party is not on Tuesday.
My party is this afternoon.
My family celebrates on weekends.
My family is weird that way.
The government moved holidays to Monday,
And my parents misread the memo.
So, today is my party.
I still won’t get a pony.
Maybe Tuesday a pony will arrive.
I’m not holding my breath.
Who can hold their breath for two days?