PILLS, MOANS AND GROANS I remember the days when I could work all day, play all night, and wake up ready to do it again with lot of fight. Now I pull a muscle getting out of bed. Nobody warned me that getting older would turn into feeling like lead. My medicine cabinet looks like a convenience store. One pill before breakfast. One after lunch. One before bed. And one that I can't remember for which sore Then there's the glasses. I've got reading glasses. Driving glasses. Backup glasses. And somehow... I'm still looking for my glasses. The real giveaway though is the sounds. Those noises that appear every time you sit down...with a frown and every time you stand up Good Lord... Sometimes I make a sound and even the dog looks dumbfound. But here's the thing. Every wrinkle has a story. Every scar has a lesson. Every pill means I kept going. Every moan means I'm still moving. And every groan means I'm still here. Still laughing. Still loving. Still drinking coffee. Still watching the sunrise. Because getting older isn't losing getting bolder. It's earning a few medals with a folder So here's to the pills. The moans. And the groans. May they remind us that growing old is a privilege and everyone's pilgrimage 🎤 Pinoks Vibes
