The Golden Age
by Tom Damron
Old Age is Golden, or so I've heard it said,
But sometimes I wonder, as I crawl into my bed,
With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
My glasses on the table until I get up.
As sleep dims my vision, I say to myself,
Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf,
The reason I know my youth is all spent
Is my get up and go has already went!
But in spite of it all, I'm able to grin
And think of the places my get up has been!