I am not young anymore, nor grey , nor old, for age is just a number: when the aches and pains begins to set in and I start to wonder, I never travel with my raincoat although I hate getting wet, because if you think you can run for cover faster than when it pours; you aim’s seen nothing yet . But not so anymore: I never leave my coat and cane when I am on a stool .Oh dear what has happened to me?
It's like I am getting old. I still dance to my social tunes and a do a little waltz sometimes, You ought to see me stepping to some back in time reggae: after all of that: is when the rubs and oils granny left me comes alive again to soothe my pain of aching joints: Oh dear they say age is just a number and life begins at forty. Begins to go where:
Downhill!
Written by Hartley Forde
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 6:40 PM UTC
I am not young anymore, nor grey , nor old, for age is just a number: when the aches and pains begins to set in and I start to wonder, I never travel with my raincoat although I hate getting wet, because if you think you can run for cover faster than when it pours; you aim’s seen nothing yet . But not so anymore: I never leave my coat and cane when I am on a stool .Oh dear what has happened to me?
It's like I am getting old. I still dance to my social tunes and a do a little waltz sometimes, You ought to see me stepping to some back in time reggae: after all of that: is when the rubs and oils granny left me comes alive again to soothe my pain of aching joints: Oh dear they say age is just a number and life begins at forty. Begins to go where:
Downhill!
Written by Hartley Forde
Request permission to use this poem