Too much fat is on my belly.

Walking slow, with joints some swell.

My story’s told, all show no telly.

All alone with shrugs… oh well.

The stress is gone. Not overwhelming.

Alzheimers cure, fresh storytelling.

Flashbacks pure, remember, yelling.

Not alone with shrugs… oh well.

I’m getting old. I’m bowed and ready.

My hand has fold. On trigger steady.

Eyes still true. My aims still deadly.

Happiness is a warm memory.