I see age slipping into my neck's skin
And furrowing itself into my brow
These fifty years their toll starts to begin
And youth at long last stands and takes a bow.
My eyes have gone, the world is blurred and tame,
The food's unfocussed as I raise my fork,
Though conversations seem to be the same
I lose interest more quickly as I talk.
I feel I've little time to spare on waste
And yet I long to sit and do nothing
Just think about the past and get a taste
Of all the things that my life didn't bring.
I watch helpless, the turning of a page,
And slip past fifty years towards old age
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