I used to have a big bite,
but now all I can do is wheeze.
My lungs are old,
and feel like raisins.
And I am the skin to
dry in the sun.
I used to have a big brain,
but now all I can do is dream.
My thoughts are repeating,
and aren’t of much use.
And I am the box
to hold it all in.
I used to have a big appetite,
but now all I can do is starve.
My body is not
what it used to be of course,
and I am the tank
that remains near empty.
I used to have a big heart,
but now all I think about is myself.
My blood does not pump
as quickly as it could,
and my generosity is not as
frequent as it could be.
I used to have a big life,
but now it’s only pocket sized.
My days do not pass,
they merge into one,
and I don’t know when
they will
stop.
