On life’s always bumpy drive,
I’ve well managed, on the whole;
But of late where ‘ere I turn,
There’s appeared a new pothole.

First the job I thought was safe,
Went off road, to foreign shore;
Now it’s being cheaper done,
By a guy in Bangalore.

Costs for health care benefits,
Cause me pocketbook whiplash;
They’re a big cash guzzle-er,
But to drop out would be rash.

‘Bout retirement I have,
A long list of growing fears;
Fed and private pension plans,
Need some serious repairs.

Ev’rywhere I look today,
I can’t help but be transfixed;
Potholes, potholes rut my way,
Potholes that ain’t getting fixed.

*******