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Battling The “D” Word
(Tough Old Birds Never Give Up)
By: Miracle Man
1-5-2020

I awake most days reasoning my future is late,
I find scant moves fast enough to accommodate me.
I’ve begun putting things aside, I procrastinate,
And good times lay farther than memory can see.

My chest no longer wears It’s once proud swagger,
It seems just certain words are an impetus to press.
Small obstacles at every turn cut me like a dagger,
Constant coupon/cat talk tends to induce distress. 

I search for quiet places void of conversation or phone,
Since Sudden Cardiac Arrest I’ve been mired in the blues.
I hope others will understand, why I prefer being alone,
And before decrying me just walk a mile in my shoes.

It seems my life’s entered into a state of regression,
*On borrowed time I’m told, this is what life will entail.
Can a Christian man live in this state of depression?
I’d scratch this itch away, but I don’t have a nail.


*Psalm 90:10
King James Version
The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.

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