Old Fart’s Lament

 

Not long ago, this body was young,
No stretch marks, no scars, there was nothing but fun.
It could run, jump and climb, twirl, bend and flex,
Can’t do those things now, without sound effects.

It needs glasses to find glasses and is frequently sore,
the brain often asks, “What’re we in this room for?”.
The hair on the roof is thinning and grey,
and the pipes either leak or back up every day.

The ears, which can hear, don’t like today’s tunes,
‘so called’ lyrics when they get it, still seem like runes.
The stomach hates spices, the liver can’t drink
the colon is due for a check up, I think.

To the shop for repairs! Is it deemed cosmetic?
Insurance said no, you’re stuck feeling pathetic.
Squinting eyes can’t read texts without a translator,
it’s phone is turned on, now it needs a third grader.

We’re surrounded by bodies with young, perky asses.
You’ve still got it, you’re still hot! but it’s only in flashes!
Some parts are sagging and others won’t work
The mouth spews lines from its parents – that jerk!

Frequently, sometimes loudly, it emits putrid fog
Better lay off the broccoli, we don’t have a dog
Childhood punishments have now become aims,
Going out? No, thanks, this body naps just the same.

The brain ignores all, says ‘We’re fine! Keep trying!
The body says ‘You’re f**king crazy!!, I’m dying!’
The neighborhood pharmacist knows it by name,
There’s a new, growing copay for each ache and pain.

Aging’s not just a pain, it’s a pantload of ills,
It’s expensive, frustrating, and tough without pills.
This body is like an old building my friend,
The tenant’s long gone and the sign says ‘condemned’.

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