I came across an extract from a poem by Charlotte Sinclair earlier this week and thought how well it sums up how some of us feel as we get older.

The poem is called “I’m Very Well Thank You”.

There is nothing the matter with me 
I’m as healthy as can be. 
I have arthritis in both my knees 
And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze, 
My pulse is weak and my blood is thin, 
But I’m awfully well for the shape I’m in.

Arch supports I have for my feet, 
Or I wouldn’t be able to go on the street. 
Sleep is denied me night after night, 
But every morning I find I’m all right, 
My memory is failing, my head’s in a spin 
But I’m awfully well for the shape I’m in.

The moral is this – as my tale I unfold, 
That for you and me who are growing old, 
It’s better to say, “I’m fine” with a grin, 
Than to let folks know the shape we’re in.

How do I know that my youth is all spent? 
Well my ‘get up and go’ has got up and went. 
But I don’t really mind when I think with a grin, 
Of all the grand places ‘my get up’ has been.