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.