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They say sixty is just a state of mind
Those who claim that must be blind,
Furrowed brows and bulging nose
Eyesight failing, even close.

Conversations turned to health
Soaring bills, dwindling wealth,
Simple tasks ever harder
Working out now a non-starter.

Yet the mind as sharp as ever
All those years makes one so clever,
Entrenched Opinions by the score
Others’ views an awful bore.

On the bright side life is freer
Gone the children, free to swear,
Drink more beer, lush on wine
Sleep it off in your own time.

Just enjoy this phase of life
yes more painful, but less strife,
Silver hair is now great fashion
Making up for that lost passion.

Read more books, drink that wine
Savor life, don’t youth pine,
What has been is but a blur,
What’s to come will your heart stir.
Tony Tweedy Aug 19
When was it that I got old and all of the joy was faded away?
Why didn't I notice my hair all over was turned gray?

When did all my excitement all seem to fade and get sick.
I know from all of the candles it didn't all happen that quick.

Why didn't I observe my youth all quietly, unnoticed slide away.
When did the word "cool" become something that old guys all say?

Why is my six pack now sitting much nearer the top of my leg?
Why do I now resemble someone struggling to carry a keg?

Why is it I go to the bathroom while the world all sleeps at three?
And find that I have to sit down, too tired, even just to go ***?

Oh the girls, how we would make love through dawn until six.
The image just in memory nearly kills me recalling such tricks.

Parts that don't work or sometimes ache that cause me to pause.
Long ago after the rescue giving up attempting to sit on all floors.

I need to put on glasses to read as without I am half blind.
But they take more than half a day if I put them down, to re-find.

I'll finish this gripe with whimper and no raucous call out....
I know I'm still writing but I have forgotten what the ****** about.
Our music was much better too....
दाई म झ्यालको सिटमा बसुँ ?
जब नम्र  नारी
आमा उमेरकिले सोधिन

अनिमात्र थाहाभो
आफू जेष्ठ नागरिक भएको
(एक मन)
कि भन्दिउ
वहाले आखा
जचाउने बेला भो
(अर्को मन)
शैली : क्लिनिकल प्रयोगात्मक
विषय: अब गर्छु बृद्धभक्ताको कुरा ||मनै त हो
Arkapravo Aug 3
Tread softly, as I wait for time,
Twilight of life, well past my prime,
I have had many jobs, some true, rest mime,
... living it when life was a melody to a rhyme,
Good, Bad or Evil ! a few crimes,
Some apples, a few limes,
... and courage when life covered me in slime,

I look up to the moon,
... time may be just too soon,
Is death a myth, a truth or a boon ?
Past life’s desert, across the dune,
... midnight, after a sunny noon,
No one here, but me and the silence of a croon,
Last meal ? I smile and put down my spoon
This is the first ever poem I wrote (outside classroom, without any compulsion). Written on 11 January 2017, it will always have a special place for me.
Everything costs money and you never have the time
Want to be an artist, but your poems can't seem to rhyme
Much disputed master of the obscure
Much opposed disrupter of the order
Guess the experiment went wrong
Just because your style is different, won't mean it's gold
Such a working actor
Such an active wreck
"So I think I missed my chance" you foam
Cause you're ageing and your Oscar ain't yet home
Truth be told and lies be laid
Youth eternal, at long once and once again
Too late you find your life a bore
Turning it all back is irresponsible and wrong
Don't beat yourself, cause their ways don't match with yours
You just haven't found that thing to make you less alone
Isolated, mocked and wrongly painted
Bereft, crestfallen, hardly tainted
well listen, i aint a real poet and this one I don't even really remember working on that well, so please be gentle on me.
There have been times I've almost been down and out and felt I couldn't face another coming
day
But despite all of this still seem to find the strength carry through with life through all the
pain
Like a fighter who Is getting old that uses the ropes of the ring to his advantage so I've been down but never counted
out
You are terrified of growing old and having things sag;
  I am terrified of growing old and saggy without you.
Lizzie Nelson May 10
Some mornings
I look at my face
and feel a pang of loss.
Like a thing once
fresh and succulent,
forgotten then found
grayed and desiccated
and stuck to the back
of the fridge.

I exaggerate.

Yet I am too old to be salad.
past sell by..
Sara Kellie Apr 26
Forty seven coloured leaves
have fallen from the tree.
Some were green,
some are gold,
each one of them is me.

She knew where she was going,
she knew where she had been
and all that time
when she was young,
she knew she was still green.

Add all the springs
and all the falls,
the winters that have past.
This leaf of gold is 47
and she is ageing fast.

Kaydee.
Falling from the tree of life.
chitragupta Apr 16
It is a respite
to forget for a while
that the number of candles grow
and birthday cakes shrink in size
gradually, each time

Curse this dream!
The doors kept on shaking
And all my strength was not enough
against His brute ferocity
But alas! Not enough to wake me

Must I live in bed
these moments of her death?
When indeed He comes for her,
I wish I can broker a trade -
to take me instead

Sigh..
If only I could stop Time.
Subconscious delivers a reality check. Happy birthday, Ma.
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