I, a werewolf of distinction, 
        Used to the night with fear, 
        But I'm entering the twilight 
        Of my infamous career. 
        I do not engender terror, 
        I do not command respect, 
        Both my shoulders droop so  badly, 
        I can scarcely stand erect. 

        When I stalked the moonlit city, 
        Many panicked at my cough. 
        Now my roar is but a whisper, 
        People laugh at me  and scoff. 
        My endurance has diminished, 
        I am clumsy, I am slow. 
        And my muscles do not ripple 
        As they rippled long ago. 

        In my heart I'm still ferocious, 
        But my strength is growing weak, 
        And I'm hardly prepossessing, 
        For I'm losing my physique. 
        I could use a  set of dentures 
        And my fur is falling out. 
        If the tendency continues 
        I'll be hairless  as a  trout. 

        My appetite  is dwindling, 
        And my arms are getting thin. 
        My legs have turned to spindles, 
        And my chest  is caving in. 
        I'm no longer fit for prowling, 
        I'm disheartened and appalled-- 
        There are few who fear a werewolf 
        Who is toothless, frail, and bald. 

               Jack Prelutsky