The Golden Years Poem

Aah, the Golden Years! There is a Dutch saying which, literally translated, goes like this: "Aging comes with deficiencies."

Yeah, tell me about it. The "health" road is getting bumpier by the day.
Maybe you can relate to this, although I hope not! :-)

Senior's Poem:

A row of bottles on my shelf
Caused me to analyze myself.

One yellow pill I have to pop
Goes to my heart so it won't stop.

A little white one that I take
Goes to my hands so they won't shake.

The blue ones that I use a lot
Tell me I'm happy when I'm not.

The purple pill goes to my brain
And tells me that I have no pain.

The capsules tell me not to wheeze
Or cough or choke or even sneeze.

The red ones, smallest of them all
Go to my blood so I won't fall.

The orange ones, very big and bright
Prevent my leg cramps in the night.

Such an array of brilliant pills
Helping to cure all kinds of ills.

But what I'd really like to know...
Is what tells each one where to go?!

What used to be a common, simple cold, which would go away by itself in a few days, has become a major issue. It has to be fought and kicked out with some potent medicine. No wonder they call it the Golden Years. They certainly are.... for the pharmacy industry, hah.

There's always a lot to be thankful for if you take time to look for it. For example, I am sitting here thinking how nice it is that wrinkles don't hurt. I would be screaming in pure agony if they did!