Old Bag

leaks and creaks…

I’m growing old, it’s all downhill
I need a nap, I need a pill
My knee is shot, my back is sore
the hearing’s gone, my eye-sight’s poor

An ankle creaks, a finger clicks
arthritic pain as old age kicks
Both big toes bent, this bunyon curse
means lefty’s ache is getting worse

The crow’s feet suck, my jowl is etched
this wrinkled dermis pretty stretched
My saggy arse requires a bra
I hate the fact it’s dropped that far

My muffin top or jelly roll
just looks like I enjoy things whole
That bouncy, jiggly flibber flab
gives hubby’s hands an extra grab

My pelvic floor, from circumstance
means when I sneeze I piss my pants
Yes, childbirth made me split and crack
those stretchy bits just don’t bounce back

The puppies hang, no longer pert
with cherries sliding off dessert
Digestive tract needs healthy picks
or colon has me shitting bricks

Great pins I once put on display
have more than bloody seen their day,
Athletic body now surpassed
I think I’ve gone from first to last…

and so…

There’ll be a day when I just stare
and kick back in my padded chair
No memories left to seek or find
for I will just have lost my mind!

~~~~~~~~~~

Copyright P J Ross
03102013

Image sourced from Google Images