Ageing fast
Everything's been written
Everything's been said
Notes that I have scribbled
Have long been put to bed
Pictures which I've painted
Aren't hanging in the Louvre
Most of my paint has dried
My mojos lost its groove
The voice is like gravel
On a much travelled road
Trodden down over years
And silenced by the cold
The face in the mirror
Looks so ragged and worn
Appears as though it's been
Through many of life's storms
The legs, too, are weary
Steps are smaller each day
And like the sands of time
The footprints fade away
I, at last, then think back
On the days of the past
Amazing how ageing
Seems to happen so fast
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