I Express Myself Through Writing

My Get Up & Go has Got Up & Went

How do I know my youth is all spent?
Well, my get up and go has got up and went.
But in spite of it all, I am able to grin,
When I think of the places my get up has been.

Old age is golden, so I’ve heard it said,
But sometimes I wonder as I get into bed.
With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table until I get up.

Ere sleep dims my eyes, I say to myself.
Is there anything else I should put on the shelf?
And I’m happy to say as I close my door,
My friends are the same, or perhaps even more.

When I was young my slippers were red,
I could kick my heels right over my head.
When I grew older, my slippers were blue,
But still I could dance the whole night through.

Now that I’m old, my slippers are black,
I walk to the store and puff my way back.
The reason I know my youth is all spent,
My get up and go has got up and went.

But I really don’t mind when I think with a grin
Of all the places my get up has been.
Since I have retired from life’s competition,
I busy myself with complete repetition.

I get up each morning, dust off my wits,
Pick up the paper and read the obits.
If my name is still missing, I know I’m not dead,
So I eat a good breakfast, and go back to bed.