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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2183439
Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2183439
We are all dying; some are more cheerful about it than others?
I’m liverish, old, cold and grey
My wheezy chest won’t go away
The aches and pains are here to stay
Just five steps from my box

My head is aching, my knees are weak
Hips and Elbows begin to creak
Bladder now has sprung a leak
Just four steps from my box

The stairs are hard, the breath is gone
Early to bed no longer fun
A single bed, just room for one
Just three steps from my box

Too much hair in ears and nose
Knees and chin now juxtapose
Romantic notions in repose
Just two steps from my box

Eating less, weight won’t go
Every action much too slow
Impossible now for the status quo
Just one step from my box

The Box itself is four by two
The last step now is surely due
Regrets, I’m sure there’s quite a few
One foot in my box

They’ll close the lid with me inside
Eternity there to abide
I would tell you all I’ve gone and died
But, I’ve two feet in my box

It’s dark in here and very cold
I think I’ll go to Heaven’s fold
They don’t have miseries there, I’m told
Get me outta this Goddamned Box !

SORRY SON, IT’S A ONE WAY TRIP
© Copyright 2019 Edward Driach (derekwadetalk at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2183439