Getting Older Poems - Poems about Getting Older

They say age is just a number, but its much more than that. Now everything I eat or drink just somehow turns to fat. I used to kick a soccer ball all over sunny fields of green but now I throw my knee out just pulling on my jeans . My auburn hair that hung in waves, long and full of...

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so now I've reached my forties, I think I'm finally getting old the pace of life has slowed now, my exploits not so bold but little did I realise, I'd feel my life had just begun we bought ourselves another house, and we had holidays in the sun. the next house that we purchased, brought us closer to our...

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There are many signs I have grown older…that make me wonder…how in the blink of an eye… All the time I’ve been alive…all the years that have slipped by. When I look into a mirror…sometimes…I feel chagrin… What hair I have left has turned to gray…and there are wrinkles on my skin. Sometimes my body aches…from my head down to...

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Hard to fall asleep I guess I'm getting older Something bothers me....

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what was it? what ... that I was thinking of? seems it is gone...

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There's more rust in my joints than ever. My bones sound like an old screen door, and my knees predict the weather better than any app. Give me elastic waistbands, soft slippers, and the creak of a recliner that groans every time I sit. Bring on the grandkids with sticky fingers leaving fingerprints on the walls, and loud toys that play the same song again...

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A reflection is a funny thing. No matter how you look at it, it will always look back at you the same. No matter how much you want it to change it never will. You will always be you unless you change you. But what fun would that be? There have been times when I didn’t want to be me. A...

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As I was leaving the doctor’s office he was dictating notes about our meeting… I eavesdropped…because I can…. He said he’d just finished up a conference with a delightful 70 year old man. I was glad he used the word delightful…it was a wonderful compliment to hear… but ‘old man’ are the words that kept ringing in my ears. I...

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She’d been depressed at seeing how her parents had aged in just a couple of years. She hadn’t really contemplated time much before, it had seemed an endless resource. Seeing her lying listlessly in bed, he asked “Are you ok?” “I’m getting old,” she admitted, closing her eyes to conserve energy. “You’re turning 20,” he stated dryly, somewhere...

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Getting Older As I'm getting older, I'm not getting any bolder, and women's attitude towards me is getting colder. As I become a senior, my demeanor becoming meaner, my funds becoming leaner. With all this...

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I thought about Kintsugi this morning while looking in the mirror…feeling old…Kintsugi is the art of repairing cracks and breaks in pottery with lacquer dusted in silver, platinum…and gold. The philosophy being those breaks and cracks are to be embraced…something everyone should see…a vital part of that pottery’s essence…its past…its history. It’s a way of celebrating those...

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Our house is filled with photographs depicting events both great and small…I find them in the pages of our family albums on our desks and framed upon our walls. When I see them they make me smile…remembering a moment…and what’s more…I realize in each photo…chronologically… I’m a little older than the one taken before. Yes, when looking...

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His eyesight was never 20/20…he’d worn glasses since he was three but now, as he grew older, it was getting harder and harder to see. They tried to make the best of this misfortune in their destiny…he said, “I guess my eyes have decided…they’ve seen all they want to see.” “It’s not all bad.” She said, “accepting his...

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Time and tide they do not wait, We all have heard it said, And there are some who seem to view, The ebb and flow with dread. They do their best to stave it off, And live in deep denial, Trying not to show their age, And viewing it as trial. A tribulation of some sort, A thing to be avoided, Forgetting in their quest...

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" How old are you, professor?"* I turned around trying to locate the student who had asked this unexpected question. It was not hard to locate her. There she was smiling, her hand up in the air. " I am forty-two," I replied. " Why? " " Would you like to be my age? '' She continued. " How old...

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