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I’M JUST OLD -- I AM NOT YET DEAD
I know that I have finally grown old.
I used to be hot now I am cold.
Others complain about warm weather.
Not me -- I always need my sweater.
In my mirror I see someone other,
And realize that I'm seeing my mother.
It seems that I'm no longer unique,
I am elderly -- possibly antique.
Recently no man has turned to glance,
Lecherously my way -- not even by chance.
Nor in Italy did I need to fear,
That some Italian might pinch my rear.
Men used to say I had brown velvet eyes.
Now they droop down around my thighs.
And a five foot eight beauty I am no more,
A trifling five - five is all I can score.
A man for me need not be handsome and tall,
With a short guy I could still a have it all
And since I've started not seeing too well,
It matters not if he doesn’t look swell.
Considering it all – life hasn't been bad
There’s no reason for me be sad.
If I am cold I do own a sweater.
I’m alive who cares about weather?
I can live alone and do as I please.
I no longer need to wash sweaty tees.
And though I have no one in my bed,
I’m just old -- I am not yet dead.