The Woes of Enemies

I've put on weight, and all my hair's turned white,
Just when I thought I'd conquered all my foes.
When I hear cracking, probably my toes,
My lower spine, or teeth too soft to bite,
I pause, remember evenings full of spite
And warm days filled to bursting with the woes
Of enemies. Although I don't suppose
They think of me now, it was a delight.

I only hope that, when they do recall
The way I sometimes took the part of Fate,
That they can smile, in their diminished state,
Remembering the lift, the rise, the fall,
Thinking how everybody ends up small:
My hair's turned white, and now I'm losing weight.