We lose teeth...Gain wrinkles. <br /> <br />Gain weight in the middle...No longer are we fit as a fiddle. <br /> <br />Bags under the eyes...No more thoughts of adventures as spies. <br /> <br />Hair that's either white or grey...All that's left are worries, when the arrival of our final judgement day.<br /><br />Michael Gale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/it-only-gets-old/
