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If I am only ten years old,
When did I get so tall,
And why do I now walk with care
For fear that I may fall?
It seems I might hear Mama call
“It’s time to come to dinner,”
Or play a game of tag with friends
Where I could be the winner.
I'd like to run and skip and jump
And dance and shout with glee,
Or else to fly on roller skates
And climb the tall oak tree.
But I've got wrinkles grooved upon
My cheeks once smooth and clear,
And now when people talk to me,
Sometimes I cannot hear.
And though I do not see as well
As I did way back when,
I know the Lord is with me yet
As He has always been.
I wouldn’t give up being Mom
Or Grandma, either one,
But I’d trade off my aching back
For little children’s fun.
I might be a participant
In Growing Old’s parade,
But in my heart of hearts I know
That’s only a charade.
The truth I am compelled to tell
That cannot be denied:
No matter how I look or feel,
I’m still just ten inside.
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