Just an old senior, downhearted and sad,
Neglected, rejected, life quality’s bad;
Just sitting alone now as night follows day,
Waiting to nod off and sleep time away;
For interest is fading in so many things
That used to bring pleasure and make the heart sing;
The heart now is heavy, like fog on the land
And age has besieged the once nimble hands;
Faltering footsteps, feet heavy and slow,
Stays mostly at home with nowhere to go;
Just an old senior, gone past sixty-five,
Weighed down with the years and not feeling alive.
But wait just a minute… that cannot be right;
The hearing’s still good and likewise the sight;
Though physical strength may not be so great
The legs are not wobbly, the back is still straight;
No wheeze on the chest and the breathing is deep,
Throughout the night, no disturbance of sleep;
Though taste has diminished, the appetite’s good,
And digestion as well, still works as it should;
The frail, wrinkled hands can still do many things
To keep the mind busy and make the heart sing;
Just an old senior… gone past sixty-five,
Now wrinkled and gray but still very alive.
