Future Past Intense
My future now is in the past,
Events that happen, happen FAST
And even she; who once was mine,
I seem to anger, all the time.
Unsteady on my feet, I fear
Another fall, like that last year.
When crumbling bones left me in pain,
Still hurting, don’t want that again.
Old age has little to commend it
(The Parkinson’s alone might end it)
Our hope grows fainter, will they find
Solutions, cures for damaged minds.
These thoughts get me so sad and down,
I take the local bus to town.
Thinks as I pass the cemetery
“cheer up! Don’t be in such a hurry.”
Count each day as a gift, to savour,
With simple pleasures, kind behaviours
Warm sun, birds and scenery,
Chilled wine and good friends' company.
Comments
We may,
We may as well enjoy what's left to us, as your poem reminds. A good but very sad and honest look at life captured perfectly by your poem. Regards Roscoe...
The long road to enlightenment
Thanks, Roscoe, glad you took the intention as I intended (I think that makes sense, anyway)
Ian
Hello Tam,
Thanks for sharing with us. I can definitely relate,
lived so long and hard now I can feel the end coming.
inspirational poem Tam,
Richard
Never give in and never stop believing
It's really good to hear from you again, Richard. The poem was a typical effort to square the circle of life with the six-cornered box of the after-life. I hit my three-score years plus ten in March 2015, so I guess it's all bonus from there on and I ain't in no hurry!!
Take Care
Ian