60

There's a few too many years
Clinging on these old bones
You can tell by the way
They creak and grind as they groan

And with the condition of the skin 
That loosely covers them
More than not a few wonder years
They have had to live

With what little wispy bit 
Of thinning hair that's left
There's more gray thatch than that of black
These days at its best

Then there's the ever dimming down
Of the once bright stage lights
That I hate to place the blame 
On my old age eyesight

And with the continued way
The mind skips, dips, and wanes
I find it's all a part of life's
Greatest give away

Which makes it harder than ever
To know if I was told
That this is how it really feels
When my friend you have grown old


I had a Birthday poem that I've been saving for 2 weeks now to post and this morning I can't find it! Maybe it'll show up about the time I turn 61! Lol!

birthdayfree verse

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