Eleven
Why, when I'm eleven in my head
Do I feel so old, when I climb into bed?
I am now an ancient sixty five,
but I'm still kicking, still alive.
Sometimes I can misplace my wits,
and I have arthritis, that's the pits.
My shoulders hunched, my movements slow.
Where did 'Youth' and 'Vitality' go?
I've lost my lovely dark brown locks,
I'm silver grey – a female fox.
But I still laugh, I still am happy.
I can look glamorous and dress 'snappy.'
(not very often).
I take it steady, that's the way,
Live to live another day.
But, I'm eleven in my head
and can be childish, it has to be said.
Yes, after all is 'done' and 'said'
I'm still eleven... in my head!
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