Milking the teats of life as it is.

Knowing it is what sustains me.

For I can see the forest

And the trees that once hid it.

Walking forward, a bit unsteady;

The lot of getting older you see.

Face now shows the battle scars

Of mother nature's aging process.

Baby face is all but gone.

People hold the door for me.

A tip off of how old I've gotten,

But so be it, as that is life.

Mind still intact and that's good news.

When so many are victims of memory loss.

O I pray for the angels that take care of them;

They are a God send to us and are so brave.