Growing Old

I slipped and fell and bounced down marble stairs,
rickety bones groaned, bruises everywhere,
“You clumsy fool” replaced “how are you hon?”
Who in the world said growing old is fun?

Who’s that staring at me in the mirror
with wrinkles and eyes reflecting fear?
Wisps of grey hair escape from a French bun,
who in the world said growing old is fun?

My weight shifts to an undesired place,
many gowns, too small, display yellowed lace;
I hate to admit that I’ve gained a ton,
who in the world said growing old is fun?

Restlessly I flip and flop every night,
my tired eyes are blinded by sunlight;
exhaustion strikes like a shot from a gun,
who in the world said growing old is fun?

“A penny for your thought” cost me a dime,
my memory fails me most of the time.
What’s your name boy? Did you say you’re my son?
Who in the world said growing old is fun?

I can’t see small print or hear the doorbell;
I forgot the hole and fell in the well;
limping through life, I can no longer run,
who in the world said growing old is fun?

Layers of clothing fail to keep me warm.
Where am I? In a hospital or dorm?
Am I young or old is life’s greatest pun,
who in the world said growing old is fun?