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by Norman
Rated: E · Poetry · Entertainment · #2180005
I guess that I'm just getting old
My daughter said, “You’re getting old.”
She said it with a smile.
I thought, “That’s no surprise to me.
I’ve known it for a while.”

I know it every waking morn
when I get up and ache.
An ache I hope will go away
with the first few steps I take.

I know it when I lose my breath
just climbing up the stairs,
or looking in a mirror when
I miss more of my hair.

I know it when I go somewhere
and can’t remember why.
What am I doing in this room?
I stand there high and dry.

I know it when I miss a friend
that used to be real close.
But when I close my eyes at night
that’s when I know it most.

When slumber just won’t come to me
no matter how I try.
And counting sheep won’t do the trick;
I toss and turn and sigh.

Perhaps it’s all the memories
my mind will not forget.
Or maybe it’s that late night snack.
That could be my regret.

I’ll have to swear off pizza now,
at least before bedtime.
I guess that I’m just getting old.
Hey, it’s really not a crime.

So when I’m feeling out of sorts
and I just need my sleep,
I might try counting pizza pies
instead of counting sheep.

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