I can’t say when it started, creeped up kinda slow,
but now I’m suffocatin’, the disease is in full flow.
I once laughed loud at my fate, was sure I’d miss the boat,
but now it’s really my turn, the scorn of elders’ gloat.
I’m not the man I once was, it makes me wanna cry.
Welcome to youth’s future, tho’ technic’lly alive.
I spurned all medication, ‘cept for booze ‘n’ blow,
Now I pop-a-pill twice daily, I’ve a chemist’s lab back home.
Can cut ‘n’ mix ‘n’ distil, to cure my aches ‘n’ pains,
but I’m runnin’ out of options, maybe it’s the stress an’ strain.
One creak here, one crack there, you suffer in silence.
Then one day, you lose control, you’re pissin’ in your pants.
I’m not that once lithe figure, can’t get it in my head.
It’s not like I’m the worst case: some my age are long, long dead!
Abandon all your vain hopes, ye who enter here.
Age is not a virtue, it’s all downhill from here.
©7.10.2019 Andrew Robert Chapman