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