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I think the poem echos the thoughts of a lot more people than just me

Getting Old

I don't remember getting old, .
it should'nt happen yet.
I need to do some other things
that aren't decided yet.
Who said my joints should ache like this?
my eyesight's getting bad,
and when I hit the bedroom,
well, things are looking sad.

I'm fifty three, how can that be?
I'm really not that old.
my body doesn't understand
it won't do what it's told.
I tell it to run round the track
for seven laps or more.
I get to three, it answers me,
you're only getting four.

When I was in my prime you know.
I'd drink ten pints or more,
then rise the very next morning
and off to work I'd roar.
But now I have a glass of wine
and things start looking hazy
my body likes it best in bed
I never was that lazy.

At seventeen the big three O,
was what I used to fear
at twenty four I thought the door
to forty wasn't near.
At forty two the big five O
was looming at the double,
the big six O is next you know,
oh boy! Am I in trouble!

When god invites me for a chat
to find out where I'm going
I'll tell him, well, I don't want hell
there's no one there I'm knowing,
I'll go to heaven if that's OK.
and wait there with my hymn book,
till the missus gets herself up here
to teach the angels to cook.

Copyright; Alan Billington
Email: [email protected]



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