What do you see when you are looking at me? Do you see your mother or granny in me?  Do you see an old lady who won’t drink her tea? You raise your voice cos’ I look like I’m deaf. You say “stand up my dear, my darling, or sweetheart, my duckie, my loveen, my honey, or pet”.  I might be poor old Annie with buckled old knees, I know who I am, but it’s not one of these.

My teeth they clatter when I’m trying to speak.

My poor old bones are so stiff when I move they now creak.

I am an old lady now and nature is cruel.

What do you see when you are looking at me?

What do you see when you ask how I am?

If you’re in a hurry – you won’t hear my answer.

If you’re in a hurry – you won’t see my tears.

I’m remembering my childhood and the fun that I had.

I was once a young girl like you with hope in my heart.

Inside old Annie, a young girl still dwells, and now and again my battered heart swells.

I’m living and loving my life all over again.