Aging Process

Getting old is a most objectionable chore;
but time is an incorrigible opponent;
as it quickly flies by, I only want more;
but, time lets me know, I don’t own it.

I don’t ask for much; just to not slow down;
and that wrinkles won’t cover my face;
I’d also prefer that I not look like a clown;
and, my new appearance, be a disgrace.

I started out as a child knowing nothing;
but, now I’m a much older version;
encountering conflict; seems I’m bluffing;
I’m like an interruption or incursion.

The world and its changes have passed me by;
I’m now on the outside; looking in;
sometimes, it seems, I don’t want to try;
for I don’t know where to begin.

I feel that, to others, I’ve become a curiousity;
and, an emptiness consumes my space;
some even view me with abject animosity;
feeling that I just don’t know my place.

I now know how it feels to be a rotten tomato;
while others view me with obvious pity;
perhaps, I could transform to a couch potato;
and, using only my mind, become witty.

That won’t work; I’m a computer illiterate;
and, a comedian, I’m not meant to be;
if I try to be humorous and act deliberate;
most likely, the joke’s on me.

Monty 4/5/22. # 1,052