Gray Ladies

The gray ladies drift down the hall They remind me of the clouds that drift inland from the gulf Meandering and listless with no apparent purpose Oh they have somewhere to go If only they could remember They will eventually become stormy and weep Yet, know one will understand that it is loneliness That makes them shudder so deeply with emotion They are children that have grown old And we have taken all their toys and joy away from them To be replaced with TV rooms and game night Will they remember and come back to haunt us on a rerun of Bonanza? We the living have placed them here to mark time until the end While we go on living out our lives knowing that we will be gray one day as well And like those fat water clouds from the gulf we too will want to spill over the side But no wants to talk with the old and the forgotten, For they hold no future for the living. Just a sad reminder of an appointment with destiny that must be met. When the final day comes and we lay them in the earth, what then? What type of celebration shall they have on the other side? I hope someone climbs in the casket and joins me for one last drink, and for the sake of Pete put a cigarette between my lips and light it. I am thinking I could use one last smoke before they chunk me in the clay. Blind fold me if it makes you feel better. Just don’t let me become one of those old gray ladies.