Old Age

My old age kinda crept up on me When I wasn’t looking the years in free fall so easily My back goes out more than I do And the cold in my joints makes such a hulabaloo I get up at least twice every night Because wetting the bed would not be right And invisibility is my super ability Wandering among people so eagerly I sometimes think that it would be cool To be born old and progress to the younger pool Then each day you could wait Knowing you’d feel better as you anticipate One day I’d be back in the womb In a warm spa and never hungry in my cocoon And after nine months I would disappear Gone after a moment of ecstasy for my parents so clear. © Paul Warren Poetry