You Tell Me I Am Getting Old

You Tell Me I Am Getting Old
You tell me I am getting old ,
I tell you that’s not so !
The “ House “ I live in is worn out .
And that ,of course , I know .

It’s been in use a long ,long while ;
It’s weathered many a gale ;
I’m really not surprised you think it’s
Getting somewhat frail .

The color changing on the roof ,
The window getting dim ,
The walls a bit transparent and
Looking rather thin .

The foundation not so steady as
Once it used to be –
My “ house “ is getting shaky ,but my
“House” isn’t ME!

My few short years can’t make me old .
I feel I’m in my youth .
Eternity lies just ahead , a life of
Joy and truth .

I’m going to live forever ,there ;
Life will go on –it’s grand !
You tell me I am getting old .
You just don’t understand .

The dweller in my little “ House “
Is young and bright and gay ;
Just starting on a life to last
Throughout eternal day .

You only see the outside , which is
All that most folks see .
You tell me I am getting old .
You’ve mixed my house with ME !
Jan Bagwell
God Bless