GOLDEN YEARS?

Supposed great, golden years,

Remembered youth produces tears.

Now I have trouble seeing,

And worse trouble peeing.

Some foods give me grief,

From worn-down teeth.

My body is fat and drooping,

I even have trouble pooping.

Where are those golden years,

Now lived with rusted gears.

I'm bloated with gas,

That stretches my ass.

Now my friends fear,

Explosions from my rear.

I can't decide to laugh or cry,

So, will do both until I die.

There's never silence from my rear,

some are squeaks, only dogs can hear.