I use to rail at the heavens
Lamenting life so unfair
I screamed and cried at the injustice
Too angry for even despair
Pounding the ground with bloodied fist
I writhed with impotent rage
But screaming is most unbecoming
When one reaches this delicate age
Writhing is so unlady-like
An indignity I must refuse
It all seems like such an effort
And takes muscles I seldom use
So instead of yelling at this thing called fate
Instead of cursing my destiny
I hang my head with delicate disdain
And softly whisper ‘oh my oh me’
I can’t believe I’ve sunk this far
Let age replace the passion
Change my armor for the feathers
That have now become the fashion
I still have the strength to yell and scream
I still have the ability to rail
Who is this woman I’ve become
So delicate, and so frail
Who takes life as its handed to her
And murmurs a dainty thank you
When in her youth she would surely have
Expelled a hearty F___ you
Don’t’ get me wrong I accept the years
And the inevitable changes they’ve brought me
But I’ve still got time to raise some hell
Before they come to get me