Like dark rain splashing across my skies,
These foaters blur my aging eyes.
And the ears aren't any better, see,
My hearing depends on a battery.
At times my tongue trips on your name;
At times the wrong word slips from my brain.
I find hairs where they don't belong,
And crepe skin hanging lose and long.
There's brown spots on my once clear skin,
This aging thing is the real sin.
I creak, I rattle, I leak and prattle,
Cause no one listens when I speak.
But,
Remember this.
I taught you how to use a spoon,
Sang good-night songs in your room.
Tucked you in, made you safe,
Made your home your go to place.
I sat you on your bicycle seat,
And ran behind you down the street.
I walked you to and from your schools,
Shared with you my secret rules.
And when the time comes that I'm gone,
You'll remember I wasn't all that wrong.