My back is bent

My joy is spent

A ninety year old man

In the body of a young gent

Red rimmed eyes

Belly full of lies

Spewing the "I'm okays"

Until my days demise

Exhaustion overtakes

My heart and soul aches

Holding it all in

For everyone else's sakes

I don't want to be a burden

In the world's troubled garden

A thorn upon the vine

My suffering is undeserving

I use a cane

Because of all the pain

It's invisible to all those near

Like tears in the rain

I try to hide it well

Even as the battle within swells

My body is a battlefield

And I'm the crippled soldier is Hell

I'm thirty years old

With a ninety year soul

How much longer

Before it all goes cold

I will go to the grave

Before I ask to be saved

I don't want to bring others down

With the battles that rage

A crippled old man

Bent backed like the curve of a clam

The limp and thump of the cane

I don't know why but this is how I am

White hair coming through

A constant flash of memories too

Reminiscing about days gone by

My mind has been well chewed

Masticated beyond repair

But please do not despair

My fight is not done yet

I will be the 30 year old man

With the ninety-nine year old mind.