Sunday, January 27, 2008

OLD AGE


SPECIAL POEM FOR OLDER FOLKS
A row of bottles on my shelf
Caused me to analyze myself.
One yellow pill I have to pop
Goes to my heart so it won't stop.
A little white one that I take
Goes to my hands so they won't shake.
The blue ones that I use a lot
Tell me I'm happy when I'm not.
The purple pill goes to my brain
And tells me that I have no pain.
The capsules tell me not to wheeze
Or cough or choke or even sneeze.
The red ones, smallest of them all
Go to my blood so I won't fall.
The orange ones, very big and bright
Prevent my leg cramps in the night.
Such an array of brilliant pills
Helping to cure all kinds of ills.
But what I'd really like to know...........
Is what tells each one where to go!

There's always a lot to be thankful for if
you take time to look for it. For example
I am sitting here thinking how nice it is
that wrinkles don't hurt...







4 comments:

texlahoma said...

All too true! I'm glad wrinkles don't hurt too.

Ol' Lady said...

Dam! What a great post. Every friggin word is true.

Jeff said...

I am not looking forward to getting old. :(

As is I have a hard time taking pills now....

At least the little poem makes it "nicer" to get old.

yellowdog granny said...

i looked in the mirror this morning while i was brushing my teeh and wondered...
who the fuck is that old lady?