Freckles to Wrinkles

At this writing, I’m 91 years old. The pages of life to unfold. My hearing is poor, my eyes are dim, Memory is fading, my head’s in a spin. It’s hard to smile for the shape I’m in. I can still talk on the telephone, My pain is controlled by methadone. My two hips and shoulders have been replaced I’m just thankful it wasn’t my face, But I’m fine for the shape I’m in. Morning comes and my day is new, I can see my days and weeks are few. My walker is my new legs My wheelchair waits for me and begs. My doctor said,”YOUR BODY IS JUST WORN OUT!” He is right there is no doubt, But I’m fine for the shape I’m in.