Wrinkles And Other aged problems

Wrinkles And Other aged problems

Wrinkles, wrinkles in my skin, they wave when I say hello,

They gather round my laughter lines and proudly let it show,

My knees now sound like bubble wrap whenever I sit down,

And stairs and I have signed a truce that favours level ground.

I sneeze and cross my fingers, hoping dignity will stay,

Though sometimes it escapes me in a slightly damp display,

My hair has formed a union and decided to thin out,

While mirrors tell the honest truth I never asked about.

I walk into a room and pause, convinced I had a plan,

Then stand there like a tourist who forgot why she began,

Yet give me songs from years ago and every word appears,

As if my mind keeps vinyl records safe across the years.

So here is to the creaking joints and memories that roam,

To laughing at the chaos and still feeling quite at home,

For growing old is odd at times, and slightly undignified,

Yet joy still sits beside me, and refuses to subside.

Wrinkles, wrinkles in my skin, they wave when I say hello,

They gather round my laughter lines and proudly let it show,

My knees now sound like bubble wrap whenever I sit down,

And stairs and I have signed a truce that favours level ground.

I sneeze and cross my fingers, hoping dignity will stay,

Though sometimes it escapes me in a slightly damp display,

My hair has formed a union and decided to thin out,

While mirrors tell the honest truth I never asked about.

I walk into a room and pause, convinced I had a plan,

Then stand there like a tourist who forgot why she began,

Yet give me songs from years ago and every word appears,

As if my mind keeps vinyl records safe across the years.

So here is to the creaking joints and memories that roam,

To laughing at the chaos and still feeling quite at home,

For growing old is odd at times, and slightly undignified,

Yet joy still sits beside me, and refuses to subside.