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GOLDEN YEARS?

  • billsheehan1
  • Jun 2, 2024
  • 1 min read

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.


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