This old body's winding down,
I feel the bones a `creaking.
It's getting harder to recall,
there's difficulty speaking.

The eye can't see the printed page,
the sense of touch is leaving.
There is a ringing in the ear,
the chest is tight and heaving.

The shoulders and the elbows ache,
the knees are also sufferin'.
Forget about the heat and rubs,
and throw away the Bufferin.

On balding pate, there `aint much hair;
The finger nails are brittle.
And in response to `nature's call,
It hurts more than a little.

The feet don't seem to want to go,
the hands are stiff and `numbing.
The nose has lost its sense of smell,
the food just gets a `gumming.

The few teeth left begin to hurt,
the taste buds, they are waning.
The stomach aches from too much gas,
the poor old back is `paining.

The heart is growing weaker,
the darkness, it is falling.
The time has come for me to go,
that sound, is Death `a calling.

| Return to Poetry Index |
| Seniors-Site Homepage | E-Mail | Site Master |