On pension you don't have a lot of wealth
They say old age doesn't come by itself
Who wants to be old and sick
And walk with two sticks
Those awful cold winds and rain
Bring on my old rheumatic pain
Eating and sitting all day makes me stout
and in my feet I have gout
The pain makes me shout
They have put me in a residential home in Gwent
The council helps pay the rent
When young you had so much fun
Playing on the beach enjoying the sun
Now I'm like Pinnochio with a wooden head
Forgetting things I have done and said
My hot water bottle keeps me warm in bed
I'd rather have my old man instead
Now by my bed I have a bell
To call a woman called Nell
She takes me to the loo
What do you expect at ninety two
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem