Getting Old Poem by Gregory Huyette
Getting Old
I don’t prefer it, but will go along till a substitute’s found
Since it’s a lot better than being part of the ground.
My hearing’s on the wean and face shows each vein.
All the equipment ‘neath my waist has gone down the drain.
But my attitude’s in good working order
Though I can’t control what’s south of the border.
Even as the rest decays,
My attitude will have many more good days!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 4:16:47 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
