Wrinkly and tired
by Bobo
Posted: Friday, November 7, 2003 Word Count: 61 |
Face facts:
I'm old.
Used-up.
Washed-out.
Youthful parlez
is wasted on me -
my ears do not hear
the same sounds
any more.
The eyes,
sagging,
struggle to see.
Who stole the
youth juice
from out of my veins?
My engine putt-putt's
in its wake.
How come I'm at a standstill
aged just thirty-two?!
WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME FOR FUCK'S SAKE?
I'm old.
Used-up.
Washed-out.
Youthful parlez
is wasted on me -
my ears do not hear
the same sounds
any more.
The eyes,
sagging,
struggle to see.
Who stole the
youth juice
from out of my veins?
My engine putt-putt's
in its wake.
How come I'm at a standstill
aged just thirty-two?!
WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME FOR FUCK'S SAKE?