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Post by themanwhoknewnothing on Aug 18, 2021 7:36:27 GMT
There is nothing the matter with me. I'm as healthy as I can be. I have arthritis in both my knees And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze.
My pulse is weak, and my blood is thin But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in. Arch supports I have for my feet Or I wouldn't be able to be on the street.
Sleep is denied me night after night, But every morning I find I'm all right. My memory is failing, my head's in a spin But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.
The moral is this, as my tale I unfold, That for you and me who are growing old, It's better to say "I'm fine" with a grin Than to let folks know the shape we are in.
How do I know that my youth is all spent? Well, my "get up and go" just got up and went. But I really don't mind when I think with a grin Of all the grand places my "get up" has been.
Old age is golden, I've heard it said; But sometimes I wonder as I get into bed With my ears in the drawer my teeth in a cup, My eyes on the table until I wake up.
Ere sleep overtakes me, I say to myself, "Is there anything else I could lay on the shelf?" When I was young my slippers were red, I could kick my heels over my head
When I was older my slippers were blue, But I still could dance the whole night through. Now I am old, my slippers are black, I walk to the shops and puff my way back.
I get up each morning and dust off my wits And pick up the paper and read the obits. If my name is still missing, I know I'm not dead So I fix me some breakfast and go back to bed
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Post by ARENA on Sept 4, 2021 15:49:02 GMT
Pam Ayres
Will I have to be sexy at sixty? Will I have to keep trying so hard? Well I'm just going to slump, With my dowager's hump And watch myself turn into lard.
I'm not going to keep exercising, I'm not going to take HRT, If a toy boy enquires I'll say, "Hah! Hard luck squire! Where were you in 73...?"
I'm not going to shave my moustaches, I'm just going to let them all sprout, My chins'll be double All covered in stubble, I'm going to become an Old Trout!
My beauty all gone and forgotten, Vanished with never a quibble, I'll sit here and just Kind of gnaw at a crust And squint at the telly, and dribble.
As my marbles get steadily fewer, Must I battle to keep my allure? Have I still got to pout Now my teeth have come out And my husband has found pastures newer?
Farewell to the fad and the fashion, Farewell to the young and the free! My passion's expired, At bedtime... I'm TIRED! Sexy and sixty? Not me!
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