by T.C Leonard

Created on: September 22, 2008

I'm a Miserable, Middle-Aged Geezer!

Why can't I trade my knees in
For a much better pair?
It seems to work with tires
When they show a little wear

And how about a new face...
One that doesn't have these lines
I want to look just like a star
And Brad Pitt would do fine

I have these fallen arches
But I really could compete
In a bike race or a marathon
With a brand new pair of feet

And when I look into the mirror
I almost have a heart attack
It seems the hair up on my head
Is moving to my back

I really hate these glasses
But my vision's going south
Without their aid, while eating,
I even sometimes miss my mouth

Some people call me "Pirate"
And I really must confess
That their reason for it
Is I have a sunken chest

Getting old is never easy
But we do it from our birth
And gravity starts pulling
Skin and muscle toward the earth

I'd like to sit and bitch some more
While my fingers gently tap
But this poem's really worn me out
And I have to take a nap

Learn more about this author, T.C Leonard.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.