It's An Age Thing Poem by Phil Soar

Aches and pains and pulls and strains
All make the days seem longer
The tablets I take to keep me awake
Don't make me any stronger
I creak when I walk and croak when I talk
And my eyes feel like they're weeping
I have to wear tights in the middle of the nights
When I'm trying my best at sleeping

All my hair has left and has left me bereft
And I have to wear a hat every day
I've been burnt on the head, get cold in bed
And can't throw the bottle away
A shot of gin, when I first come in
Lifts my spirits and keeps me sane
I dribble from the chin, where the drink goes in
And one when it leaves me again