As I gawked at my haggard face
Pondering how I could erase
Deep lines that have appeared
I'm getting long in the tooth, I feared
The hair on my head has gotten thin
Seems to me, I'm seeing more skin
Gray is the color of my whiskers
No longer looking like my old pictures
Sometimes it hurts moving the slightest
All due to my ongoing battle with arthritis
The aches disappear when I slumber
And I sound like I'm cutting lumber
Spicy meals have gone by the wayside
Doc said not to eat food that's fried
Right after I check the weather map
I like to eat, then take an afternoon nap
Oh the life and times of middle age
Getting up to check the rain gauge
Then sit on the porch in my straw hat
Enjoying the quiet with my favorite cat
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem