I put drops in my eyes
I put drops up my nose
I've syringed my ears for many years
And clipped where hair now grows
I limp because my ankles ache
My hands are painful too
I sometimes think ‘for goodness sake'
When I go to the loo
I'm either constipated
Or I'm loose from down below
And where the hell it all comes from
I really do not know
My back goes into spasm
Whenever I bend down
And the smell whenever I pass wind
Is the foulest smell around
I guess it's part of getting old
When everything starts failing
And things we did, when we were kids
Are harder, now we're ailing
Now sitting down's a pleasure
And sleeping even more so
The thought of walking up the stairs
Is painful to my torso
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An impressive poem on senile problems. Thanks