Senior Citizens

May 30, 2014 chris
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There’s nothing 

whatsoever 

the matter with me.

I’m just as healthy 

as I can be.

I have arthritis in 

both my knees.

And when I talk, 

I talk with a wheeze.

My pulse is weak, 

my blood is thin,

But I’m awfully well 

for the shape I’m in.


All my teeth have 

had to come out,

And my diet I hate 

to think about.

I’m overweight and I

 can’t get thin,

But I’m awfully well 

for the shape I’m in.


And arch supports 

I need for my feet,

Or I wouldn’t be able t

o go out on the street.

Sleep is denied me 

night after night,

But every morning 

I find I’m all right.

My memory’s failing, 

my head’s in a spin,

But I’m awfully well 

for the shape I’m in.


Old age is golden 

I’ve heard it said,

But sometimes I

 wonder, as I go to bed.

With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,

And my eyes on a shelf

 until I get up.


But I really don’t mind, when I think with a grin,

Of all the places my 

get up has been.

I get up each morning

 and dust off my wits,

Pick up the paper and 

read the “obits.”

If my name is missing, 

I’m therefore not dead,

So I eat a good breakfast and jump back in bed.


The moral of this, as 

this tale doth unfold,

Is that you and me, 

who are growing old,

It is better to say, 

“I’m fine” with a grin,

Than to let people 

know the shape we are in.

Author Unknown