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Another year over,
another year done
another fine birthday
for my elder son.
He’s aging quickly,
three-six-five makes a year,
with each revolution
becomes ever nearer.

He’s nearer my age
in terms of ratio
because he’s aging fast
while I advance slow.
At first ratio
one to over ten grand
on his second day
we cut difference in half!

Days I’d been alive
one-zero-four-six-three
Advance by percent’s
aging quicker than me.
He’s turned twenty-eight,
nearing half my age
when my son turns thirty
asymptote will rage.

With each passing year
we become more the same
he’s still a youngster
but my math is no game.
Cliché is like parents
we’re doomed to become
but on this birthday
he’s still long way to run.

So, happy birthday,
to my first progeny,
I’m over the hill,
but you’re gaining on me.
No matter our ages,
no matter the year
forever in our hearts
you’ll ever be dear.Image may contain: 2 people, people smiling, people standing, beard, hat and outdoor