Decrepit Poem by Christopher Tye
Decrepit
Decrepit
Decidedly past my best,
Eking out life for as long as I can,
Creaking joints and an awkward gait,
Remembering the distant past of my youth,
Every day surviving becoming harder,
Powers of sight and hearing diminishing,
Intellect still sharp but nowt else,
Time running short as the journey closes.
By Christopher Tye
Monday, August 15, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: growing old
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4/26/2024 3:25:20 PM # 1.0.0.1119
It's only when we have reached a certain age we do realize the saying age is wasted on the young well when we were all young we thought we would live forever. But age doesn't come its self all aches and pain accompany it...ouchhhh. Annette