Getting Old Poem by John Bliven Morin

My ears, they ring,
My joints, they creak,
My muscles ache
And my bladder leak.

It hurts to sit,
It hurts to rise,
No teeth, just gums
And blurry eyes.

Must clear my throat,
I cough to talk,
Can’t sing no more;
I can hardly walk.

Can’t eat no salt,
Nor colesterol,
Can’t eat no fat;
I almost fall.

I need my walker,
I’m losing my hair;
I’m going to get
A motorized chair.

My plumbing’s out,
Forget romance! ;
What I thought was fart
Has stained my pants.

Thank God at least
My mind is fine...
(Now where did I put
That damn last line?)

Copyright (C) 2008, John Bliven Morin