One Good Side to Growing Older


A gray-haired old woman from the United Kingdom.
Image via Wikipedia

When I was
young and my eyes were sharp,

I could see almost
to infinity,

My knees
were good and I could run,

And I could
still trust my memory,

 

Mirrors were placed so I could preen,

I was young,
and I was strong,

Somehow the
years passed,

So many
things went wrong,

 

Now I’m
older and my eyes are dim,

But I can
still see from memory,

My knees
were repaired, I wish I could run,

From old age
I certainly would flee,

 

I avoid mirrors
and the truth they bring,

Once I was
indestructible, but not anymore,

The years
have taken their toll,

And shaken
me to the core,

 

Now I can
still see with glasses,

To be sure I
keep several pair,

For I forget
where I had them last,

Or I sit on
them in my chair,

 

I laugh more
often in my dreams,

I can walk,
I can run, I can leap,

When I awake
I’m still tired,

So I nap
until it’s time to sleep,

 

There has
been one good side,

To living
long and growing old,

Someone
thought I must be wiser,

Because of
stories that I’ve told,

 

You might
think that I’m wise,

But I’ve got
news for all,

I’ve made
many mistakes in life,

Some I don’t
want to recall,

 

From mistakes
was experience gained,

I’ll count
that as something good,

From experience
comes wisdom,

Perhaps that’s
understood,

 

The more
mistakes the wiser I got,

To that hope
I fervently cling,

So I’ll quietly
listen to all you say,

Before my
words take wing,

 

Should you
pass me on the street,

And I don’t
remember who you are,

Treat me like
someone wise,

Your kindness
will go far,

 

Someday you
might be like me,

Stumbling
and halfway blind,

Remember it
might not be fun,

Looking for
your mind.

 

 

 

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