Ask me if I mind growing old
And I’ll tell you damn right!
And I’ll tell you damn right!
It’s not so much the growing old
As the indignity of tearing eyes and runny
nose
Bulging discs and arthritic fingers
Along with ugly growths and strange lumps.
I hate my brain’s temporary shutdowns
Before it remembers what I couldn’t recall.
These continuously progressing indignities
Show no mercy seemingly taking delight
In assaulting even the richest, brightest
and most pious.
Damn right I mind growing old!
Rachel Nemitz,
March 2009
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