Poetry?

It has been long since I crossed ninety.
Even though time flies, my age seems to stand still.
There is not much in my kitty,
For the void which I am desperate to fill.

I toss and turn in my sack.
Voices all around me scream, shout and yell,
None as loud as the one within.

But amid those painful sounds of hell,
One little voice assures, calms and soothes,
All will be well,
You must fight back.