Aging

This short poem will never make it into one of those books written by that veterinarian who works on felines that wear head-gear, but I enjoy it none the less. I hope you do too. Any resemblance to myself is purely coincidental.

I cannot see
I cannot pee
I cannot chew
I cannot screw
Oh my God, what can I do?

My memory shrinks
My hearing stinks
No sense of smell
I look like hell
My mind is bad, can you tell?

My body’s drooping
Have trouble pooping
The golden years
Have come at last
The golden years
Can kiss my ass.

Keep your fork

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