Growing Old

If growing old, is a state of mind,
Then tell me why, it is I find;
When I look in the mirror,
there are lines in my face,
And my weight has shifted,
to a brand new place!
The aches I have,
never used to be there,
And look at the gray,
that's in my hair;
I can't remember
where I put my teeth,
If they are on the sink,
or down underneath!
My hearing is slipping,
that's a surprise,
And I have to wear glasses,
to help out my eyes;
So how do I believe,
that it's all in my head,
When, instead of getting up,
I have to 'roll' out of bed!

© 2002 Loree (Mason) O’Neil

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