Forty Seven

At sixty you've spent twenty years in bed And two years of eating when your fifty I've stopped counting the grey hairs on my head My skin is loose and everything's squishy My spine's compressing, causing me to shrink The birthmark on my face, now on my neck Crows feet are one thing, I've got spiders feet One thing after another, I expect Do I qualify for seniors rebate ? Clerk asks at the store who looks about ten Forty seven, do I look sixty eight ? I cannot handle that happening often I'm ok with the aging endeavour I feel as though I've been here forever August 22, 2016