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
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