Coping Skills Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Aging settles within us, sapping our strength, knocking us for a loop when we have done just a little.
Holding on, looking around us, watching people in different stages - ones we have already been through.
Seeing various ways people use coping skills that are as varied as hundreds of boxes of crayons.
Functioning on limited time, pressed into corners, afraid to venture very far, instead, becoming home bound - trying to deal with their health and where they are in life.