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!
Credit & Thanks:
Original poetry:- Loree O'Neil - © 2002
Republication prohibited.
Page Graphics - Provided by Penny Parker
To purchase a collection of Loree O'Neil's
poems
Contact Loree O'Neil
| |
