OLD AGE

I look at my hair it's parting like the red sea,the mirror in the morning  is playing tricks on me ,

My legs have varicose veins on my legs looking like railway tracks,

When I move I creak and groan I need oiling ,

My memory is like a goldfish put on repeat,

The Doctor gives me more pills I am convinced that I rattle when  I walk,

People say poor old soul,I only  coming  up to sixty you know,

I not quite dead yet but I overwhelming get bothered by those infernal life assurance aids,

I have no desire to go to the great beyond yet,

If I do just a simple funeral for me,no wake just get some fish and chips,.

It's time to finish this ode with a quote from a friend, yes old age is shit.