Don't Look In The Mirror

My doctor's such a gifted man
whose confidence goes hand in hand
with knowledge, wisdom, expertise
in ways that thwart and then decrease
my chance of getting sick.

He knows the meds, the protocols,
the facts on bad cholesterol
which is a red flag on my chart
and goodness knows he is so smart.
I trust him with my life.

But recently, I'm sad to say,
a problem has come into play.
When asked about my aches and pains,
arthritis, gout or muscle strain,
his answer is the same.

The answer starts with just four words
which I prefer be left unheard.
It's all nonsense and can't be true
but facts exist I can't undo.
The mirror doesn't lie.

My doctor's words, politely said,
remind me that the days ahead
will prove that autumn has arrived,
my summer days are now archived.
I'm batting in the ninth.

His answers to my questions start
with those four words that do impart
a clear awareness of my stage
expressed in words:  "Well, at your age..."
I hear it every time.

He's such a nice and pleasant man.
I only wish he'd understand
that in my mind I clearly see
a strong, unwrinkled, different me.
Until I take a glance.