I guess I've entered the "twilight" years,
the years I've heard about.
I don't remember getting here.
All I know is - I want out.
But I know that is impossible
and I'm stuck in the "twilight" zone.
The changes that I'm going through
make me sometimes moan and groan.
If I go into the kitchen
for water or a glass of tea,
I forget what I went there for;
it's just a mystery to me
While gazing in the bathroom mirror
there's a stranger that I see.
She has bags and lines and wrinkles,
and I'm sure she can't be me.
I guess I'm just maturing,
getting older day by day.
So I'll try to relax and enjoy it
as my brown hair turns slowly to grey.
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