My Ageing
Put me not in the old people’s home
Where it smells of piss and the neglected moan
I’d rather you drift me out to sea
Where I can be forever free.
I will eat what I want, when I want
I will do as is my penchant
I will go to bed when I like
I might even ride a bike.
Being put into a warehouse for the aged
Would simply make me feel caged
I assure you the light will still shine within
Even if you can’t see it under my old skin.
And when I pass, do not cry
For I’ll have no regrets as I die
But be happy, I do implore
As I pass on over to the other shore.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
