Getting Old?

As my hair takes on different hues, There is gray, some white with hints of blue. The person I see looking back at me, When did this person start looking a little like me? You reach a point when everything starts changing, Your looks, your thoughts, things on your body just start rearranging. Things don’t look nearly as bright, Without your glasses it’s hard to tell whether it’s day or night. Your feet, seems like they got neatly tucked away, It seems to get harder to see them in these latter days. Now speed is something you take not how fast you drive. And that cabinet full of medicine is what keeps you alive. In your hometown paper reading the obits is the first page you choose, And it’s hard to watch a complete movie without taking a snooze. When your kids come over for a family get together, You can see yourself in them and hope they have life a little better. Growing old if we’re lucky we all will endure, So far as I know I don’t think they have found any cure.