This old skin
Is wearing thin
The longer it sits
On this skeleton

And the longer it sits
The wrinklier it gets
Yet there's still some fit
So I must not be done yet

While some spots hold tight
Others hang loose
My epidermis I find
Hasn't a clue what to do

As it does it's bit
The looser it gets
One day I believe
It'll sink past my knees

Then maybe I'll tuck
It into my socks
And buy bigger shoes
For my skin that hangs loose