There's quite an art to falling apart as the years go by. And life doesn't begin at 40. That's a big fat lie. My hair's getting thinner, my body is not; The few teeth I have are beginning to rot. I smell of Vick's-Vapo-Rub, not Chanel # 5; My new pacemaker's all that keeps me alive. When asked of my past, every detail I'll know, But what was I doing 10 minutes ago? Well, you get the idea, what more can I say? I'm off to read the obituary, like I do every day If my names not there, I'll once again start - Perfecting the art of falling apart. Back To Are you ready for your own homepage? Email me and I will send you the details. Click Here For Graphic Websets To Send This To A Friend Click The Button Below: