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Twilight, twilight years.
Oh, Dear Lord you know my fears,
Please forgive vanities tears.
In these twilight years. . .
Brunette hair turning gray,
Getting thinner every day.
Even with all the goop and spray,
It goes its own crazy, wild way.
In these twilight years . . .
Arms that once were firm and thin,
Now have flabby, wiggly skin.
A face once with a velvety grin,
Now has a hairy upper lip and chin.
In these twilight years. . .
Eyesight going faint and dim,
Cataracts make things look too grim.
Can no longer see the baskets rim,
When I go to the old folk's gym.
In these twilight years . . .
Oh Lord, please give me the grace,
To accept the changes I must face.
Time is now on its final race,
I don't know how to beat its pace.
In these twilight years. . .
Hearing is no longer at its peak,
Everything sounds a little weak.
I shout and yell when I speak,
Makes me look like a shrieking geek.
In these twilight years . . .
Forgetting my children’s name,
They make fun of me like it’s a game.
But the truth is I feel so lame,
They don’t even look the same.
In these twilight years . . .
Where’s it, where’s it, where is it,
I can’t remember where I put it.
Hunting till I lose both my mind and wit,
I’ll search till dawn before I finally quit.
In these twilight years . . .
There’s plenty more to my tale,
But, I choose not to tell.
Except, I also lost my sense of smell,
And my feet and ankles sometimes swell.
But, then I don't want to dwell,
On these twilight years. . .
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