The passions of youth are difficult to remember,
when you get to be a certain age.
Fires grow cold and my bones always ache,
It's hard to stay warm without my rage.
My arms won't stretch and they won't quite reach
the memories I keep on the shelf.
But I wake every morning with the dawn in my eyes,
and I congratulate myself.
One more night I've made it through,
So I chuckle as I read the obits.
I take my pills then shower and shave,
then on the throne I sit.
It's another day to reflect on where I've been,
and where I'll eventually go.
It's good when you're old not to move too fast.
Life lasts longer when you take it slow.