Oldies Lament.

Oh crickey! I'm creaky, I'm cracky and sqeaky
It sounds like a shot when I bend or I squat.
When I come down the stairs (which are very old),
Which makes the most noise
When my knees creak with the cold.
If I were a tin man I'd get out the oil,
Get my joints moving, decrepitation to foil.
Condriton, Glaucosomine I take every day
I swallow them gladly with tea,
But whatever I do the creaks won't go away,
I don't think I'll ever be free.
I have to accept old age is upon me,
You won't see me running or dancing and prancing,
That's just the way it's got to be.

Jill West