I still got it

My left toe is exceptionally austere.
A silent soldier, it holds its station
Among the forces of my toe nation,
Its bearing betrays neither pride nor fear.
Strong toe! Fair toe! Toe of might and justice!
Its attention to the required mission
Won’t flag, never suffers indecision,
Its grip has exceptional robustness.
My left toe wastes no time on conceptions:
Bluff and pragmatic in its approach,
It performs its mission beyond reproach,
And fulfils its tasks without exception.
But time, that thief, has quietly begun
To nag my bones and lead my ligaments
Into gradual deterioration.
Still my left toe holds its ground, with no sense
Of the ultimate capitulation,
My stout, gauche, podiatric last defense.