Foreign Objects

What, I wondered, would advanced age be like.
Sighting the elderly set my mind to rousing.
Becoming like them overtook me with fright.
But now I'm old with no need for browsing.

Memories of earlier days occupy my thoughts
Which time romances to render them splendid.
Now it's difficult to connect any lot of dots,
And voices are subdued and confusingly blended.

But above all else, what drives me quite mad
Is to awake from slumber with pain extreme
In some place in my body I never knew I had.
I struggle to keep from shouting a scream.

Curiosity causes me to question my M.D.,
Thinking I have some undiscovered part.
He smiles benignly and chuckles at me,
"That's part of a minor vein to the heart."

That knowledge strikes me as unfulfilling.
Of what else that will hurt am I unaware?
But that specter I now find less than chilling
For the truth is (yawn) I'm too old to care.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

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Rebstock Avatar
June 29, 2015 at 9:52 PM
I can relate to aches and pains. I work and have to sit a lot. I keep hearing how standing at computer better then sitting and will live longer. Like you said, though, at this point in life do I want to really outlive my body's ability to do things. Should have started this years ago, I guess. Oh well, I guess I am ambivalent at this point. Enjoyed your poem and thought provoking
Schneiter Avatar
June 29, 2015 at 10:05 PM
I value and appreciate your comment/observation, Shirley. We must all pay, in one way or another, the wages of age. Thank you for stopping by.
Laurie Avatar
June 27, 2015 at 7:22 PM
G'day Paul... a goodun for us oldies Paul. I remember when I thought forty was old and those at that age were passed it. I'm too old to remember forty now and like your poem... I'm too old to care - thank you Paul - Lindsay
Schneiter Avatar
June 27, 2015 at 8:47 PM
You ID'd my message perfectly, even though my delivery of it was so-so. Thanks, Lindsay. Hugs and love.
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