Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Crazy Old

I saw an old friend at the Post Office,
He appeared to be quite insane…
I got home, pulled off my stocking cap,
And realized, I looked the same.

I still think like a seventh grader,
Unaware, I’m now an old codger…
Ugly, weak, disheveled, forgetful;
I am the failed artful dodger.

All my friends admired me,
I smelled each rose along the trail…
Clocks still stop for no one though;
My immortal quest, a colossal fail.

The changing world and politics,
Make it easier to say goodbye.
Yet, I will never forget my love for life…
In the end, I can’t deny it or lie.

No comments:

Post a Comment