Exercise 310702

My eyes are failing

as is my hearing.

My body is collapsing

in on itself, like

some death star imploding

before exploding. Just don’t

stand too close in

case it happens; collateral

damage would not look

good on your resumé.

My joints do ache

at times, but alcohol

just worsens it cause

it reminds me of

the stark contrast between

what was and is.

At least my hair

is not declining, although

it might be receding:

the tide of passion

still comes in and

ebbs with regularity to

make it still worthwhile

to bear with shade.

My legs now wobble

so much I’ve grown

accustomed to sitting, and

eating — a pleasure still

fulsome — now comes with

the add-on sleep.

My eyes are failing

me now, and frustration

is a common theme.

My mind still leaps

about like a child

but without the innocence.

My heart beats laboured,

but it still beats

fierce at the indignities

and injustice, and tearful

at love’s joy and

song. My body is

slowly wearing down and

it’s a sad thing

to watch it happen,

yet it’s also a

wonderful time to be

alive to all this

somehow, if this makes

any sense at all.


© 2017 L. Tafa






Author: b20f08

I enjoy solo wargaming and writing. The first caters to the boy that never grew up; the latter satisfies a deep desire to communicate. Cheers.

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