Each Day Poem by Phil Soar

Each day a part of me begins to ache or fall apart
I don't know where the day will end, or when the pain will start
The frame that I began my life in, aged beyond compare
The things I treasured in my youth, are now no longer there

The way I move is testament to how I've spent my days
Resulting in more effort, and attempts to change my ways
And as the hours just tick away, Reminds me how I look
An ageing shell, as folk can tell, a tattered well-read book