Getting old is not much fun
It was different when I was young
Could dance all day and no gray hair
Never had a worry or care
Now the years have rolled on by
I sit in my chair and I could cry
Can’t remember peoples names
I hear them say what a shame
I can tell you things in the past
But my short term memory it has past
Repeat myself all day long
On gods earth what has gone wrong
Bones are full of aches and pains
Stairs will never be the same
All my friends have passed away
I am left alone in my own way
People at my beckon call
That’s not what I need at all
Kindness it is nice to know
But I have other places to go
Soon I will be sitting amongst my friend’s
And I can climb the stairs again
Meeting loved ones long gone
And meet my darling husband Tom
Chellaston
02 01 2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lovely poem, very well penned. It rhyme and rhythm brighten up old age. CP