Getting Old Poem by Douglas McClarty

Sit me down in a comfy chair
With a blanket round my bony legs
Just let me sleep, sometimes stare
For I'm getting old and very tired
Just want to sit with my thoughts
Make conversation short with me
And perhaps an occasional cup of tea.
See my grandchildren for a little while
They always manage to make me smile
Please don't feel pity or sorrow for me
For I had like you, days happy, carefree
Now I replay them while I rest and dream
The past is all all I have now, it would seem
For all my friends and love ones are so few
As far as visits go I'm now just last in the Que.
I sit in a home full of strangers, all like me
Just green bottles on the wall, I'm counting.