Beat the Clock
by Lyn Marinello
I have to squint, my hair is grey
Can't always remember why I've come this way
My knees make noise, I've gained a few pounds
My shoulders make some interesting sounds
I say "Pardon?" a lot to hear things twice
There might be cake for lunch, but just a small slice
I've earned a few wrinkles, bought bigger clothes
Am careful to refrain from voicing my woes
Unexplained bruises and occasionally aches
Tropical moments and cold, frigid shakes
It seems that I frequent the bathroom a lot
I'm comfy with me more than who I am not
My sleep is elusive, if much, really, at all
At least I can still get up if I fall
Arising from bed is a goal for which I strive
The pains that I wake to, let me know I'm alive
I no longer run like the wind, or party all night
I take a nap when I'm tired and that is alright
My joints are stiff, but I am still living
Not trying to beat the clock, but savor every minute given.
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