We will find the dat when we fall over
To toss ’bout like a turtle on its back.
The pedestrians will stop and gander,
Taking away the dignity that we lack.
Will they hear the beg for a helping hand,
Or will they look for a viral picture
That will help them sell their personal brand
Because they wandered on our exposure?
Do they not understand they will be here
In this sad compromising position
After they start collecting all their years,
Diving in their own foolish transgression?
They will never look up to the top shelf
Because that goes against their honest self.
Tag: getting old
Fifty
As my brittle bones start to creak and moan,
And my joints pop with every movement,
I stare at the next morning with a groan,
And wonder where this half century went.
I have gained plenty more bathroom visits,
And they seem to take a little longer
Because not ev’rything wants to exit
Though my resolve to do so grows stronger.
The skin around my eyes begins to sag
Because I have to squint to see these words.
To recall my sharp wit takes a long lag
Where the replay comes so late, it’s absurd.
Nobody told me it would be nifty,
The day after I have become fifty.
John Collings 