Old

Old

Old is horrible, old is bad,
Old is wrinkles that make me sad,

Old is backache and knobbly knees,
And aching limbs that cant climb trees,

Old is hair dye and baggier skin,
And wishful thinking that we were slim,

Old is marriage and noisy kids too,
Mortgages and bills that make you blue.

Old is dentures and eyedrops at night,
So don’t turn the light on or you’ll get a fright.

Old is memories of times gone bye,
That bring a twinkle to your eye.

About the author

NHS healthcare worker, happily married to my soulmate tricia, and living the dream in quiet cheshire, loves playing my flute, and traipsing around our wonderful english countryside whilst chatting to friends old and new on my mobile Ham radio.
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