Old

Suddenly, I've become old in ways that I wasn't
Only two years ago. My heart's no good. My hip's
Gone to hell. I want nothing to do now with
Ladders or stairs. I take naps in the day to escape
From my pain, and, when I am awake, I sit still
In a chair, a broken old man, not who I once was,
Who wonders what he ought to do.




Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 42 times
Written on 2018-01-16 at 13:58

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