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Getting crusty round the edges
Like a slice of day-old bread
From the bottom of my twisted toes
To the top of my balding head

Dehydrating like a side of beef
Jerky tough to chew
Not much of me is worth the keep
With nothing hanging that is new

Eyes that once were crystal clear
Now no more than a blur
Please speak loud so I can hear
The meaning of your every word

The lines I blamed on laughter
Aren't funny anymore
Ask me what's the matter
Long ago stopped keeping score

You can take this slice of day-old bread
Remove most of the mold
But when all is done and all is said
Man, I'm getting old
I could make it seem like such toil
And claim I bleed for my poetry
But it is not at all work
It is a joy for me
Elation of creation
And then I set it free
But I can’t really let it go
It’s still a part of me
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