Growing Old

GROWING OLD

Simply growing old,
Is a degrading feeling,
When you find you need
More surface "concealing."

When your memory fails,
You can’t find your keys.
You wait for your son,
And you nearly freeze.

Your kids will always think
You are remarkably ancient,
And principally treat you
Like a damn sick patient.

Your body is now hosting
A quick destructive race.
Who will win? Your mind
Or your wrinkled face?

Your old and tired flesh
Will someday be dead,
But your heart still pumps,
Pushing blood to your head.

If I were to choose,
A spanking new fate,
I would definitely bring
My memory up-to-date.

July 2003

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