Blast It
Blast it! I’m blasted.
I feel it in my roots.
I feel it in these withered limbs
That used to be young shoots!
Blast it! I’m blasted.
How fleet my time has been.
I want to feel it springtime. . .
And blossom once again!
Blast it! I’m blasted
And I'm feeling so afraid,
For what am I without strong arms
Spread wide to offer shade?
Blast it! I’m blasted.
The blasted doctor said
That surgery was wasted
On the dying nearly dead!
Blast it! I’m blasted.
Invaded by a mold,
I’ll have to be cut down
Because I’m just too blasted old!
8/9/2012
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012
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