My toes are cold
my head is hot

in between
I know not what

My lips have thinned
my nose has not

I cannot breathe
it's full of snot

The hair is thin
but only on top

looking in the mirror
I know I cannot

The old ugly thing
Is it me or not

in all my years
the things I sought

they do not matter
should they ought

to walk awhile
I cannot smile

my knees are fat
I spread if I sat

my teeth are brittle
I leak spittle

my mind is small
I cannot recall

my hands just fiddle
I must piddle

why I am here
for someone dear

don't make me
last another year