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
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