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by fyn
Rated: E · Poetry · Biographical · #2285218
Getting old, well older.



Not as Young...




To steal a line from a favorite song--
that is absolute truth and just SO wrong ...
"I'm not as young as I once was,"*
hurts to realize - it really does.

Hubby can't sit in the woods as long,
gets cold easier, the feeling gets gone
and his bum falls asleep--
It's enough to make a grown man weep!

A wheel barrow full of wood weighs more
than it ever seemed to weigh before
and don't get me going about climbing stairs--
with old knees and hips: it isn't fair!

Bedtime comes earlier: sometimes before dark
and staying up late is an extremely rare lark.
The energy levels always seem half-full:
there's only so much no matter how hard you pull!

I remember dancing til the wee hours
back when we were young and at full power.
A night without sleep was nothing new
and we just kept going--it was what we'd do.

Inside my mind, I still feel young
with worlds to conquer and songs to be sung.
Yet the mirror insists I am getting old--
my mother looks back and says 'I told--

you so.' Why are the folks always right?
'Been there; done that' sounds awfully trite!
But point of fact the message sent
is my 'get up and go, got up and went!'












*From Toby Keith - As Good As I Once Was
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