I sit here, poor ol' lonely me,
and fear the grip of senility.
My joints all ache - i can barely see.
Everything's worn out on me.

My family's busy and pays no mind.
So often their words aren't too kind.
To their slights they think I'm blind,
as if I have no heart or mind.

Lord to you I turn and humbly pray
for the strength to face this day.
My faltering steps lead in Your way.
Please show me what to do and say.

Help me see your loving care,
and of others needs be aware.
Help me be ready their burdens to bear,
as Your salvation I gladly share.

I'll hang in here one more day,
as these old bones creak and sway.
Perhaps my famliy will come and see
- poor ol' lonely me.

©1979 Michael S. Davis