A Poem Written In A Moment Of Pain

For those of you who might sometimes feel like me

Like me, my body is fragile at 63. The gift I received at my creation Is warping at the edges. And age, Deliberately ignored and avoided, Has silently crept up chiselling At my skeletal structure, stiffening My joints, and cracking my bones. I rise painfully and only later Are there any signs of youth’s sprightliness in my gait.

Years of self-exploitation have taken Their toll, hard work, many hours glued To the screen, nights way too late. A scintilla of exercising, negligent Feeding habits and too much weight Have added to misery’s gong now Ringing out “Too late. Too late. It’s payback time. Too late, my dear, To compensate.”

My mind wanders away from me, Words linger at the tip of my tongue As memories fail. “What was it I wanted? What word was I looking for? … emm …Wait a sec …” But all to no avail. Unable to grasp these elusive imps, My language simplifies, reflecting A withering intellect, once so alert And overflowing with perception.

Somewhere along the matrix of life I neglected to read those inspiring books And sowed the seeds of my deterioration. I seek comfort in the knowledge that I am Not alone on this journey, and like me, My companions realise winter Will soon enough show its ruthless face. And together we shall stand and brave The discomfort of the ice.

But still, there is time enough before I have to give in to those, younger and ask them to please stand up and give me their seat, as I have reached an age Where I feel so Old and frail And admit Defeat.

Thank you, David, for this wonderful challenge and prompt: _______ Like Me, as well as introducing me to yet another great American poet, Langston Hughes.