I want to say sorry
For being remiss
I tend to worry
As I look at the list
Of the appointments I
Have to
Keep, every week.
I get such care for the
Cures that I seek.
Everything is fading
And it seems far away.
I have glaucoma
Diabetes as well,
Three types of Arthritis
That hurts like hell.
I see a heart specialist,
And lung specialists, too and
Peripheral Neuropathists to name
Just a few,
IBS that messes with my tum
I no longer have control
Of my bum.
I go to physio classes,
Twice a week.
I have a hoarse voice,
I cough and wheeze when I speak.
I am not writing this for sympathy
Life has been very good to me
I don't know how to explain
In any other way
What I started to say
I have had so much encouragement from PS
It has caused much happiness
I have become very slow
And have lost my get-up and go
So without further ado
I want to apologise to all of you
Who have kindly taken the time
To comment on my simple rhyme
And I have yet to answer you.
Some mornings
When you are over eighty, the medics lose interest
in your health, I used to see the heart specialist every six months
and check diabetes every three months
now they have stopped seeing me.
It is like they think, what the heck he is old enough anyway.
Not that I care sitting all day indoors looking out
of the window seeing life lived as a spectator.
The phone doesn´t ring anymore and the few friends I had
are dead or in the bosom of AA, their life has been reduced
going to meeting keeping their morale up.
Listening to the endless yammer of self - obsessed people
talking about themselves their goal is sobriety, and they spend
rest of their life cocooned in safety while dreaming of whiskey.
We old people are so ugly we walk ungainly, and we have
forgotten to live in the day.
We have lived our life lost the zest and our laughter when
we laugh, is a scream of despair