My Life Fullfilled

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Life can be hell, but life is what we make it.

Submitted: August 02, 2016

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Submitted: August 02, 2016

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I can no longer hear,

what you have to say.

My hair has thinned,

and, turned to grey.

The morning paper

iis of no use to me,

my eyesight has dimmed,

and, I can barely see.

I can't answer my door,

or, even turn my lock,

I am confined to this chair,

because I can not walk.

I try to put on my clothes,

a shirt, or even a sock,

I can't ask for any help,

because I can no longer talk.

So, here I sit,

old, and frail,

in a dark, silent worrld,

my very own jail.

Old age has finally found me,

so, I can no longer hide,

but, one thing it can not have,

is my sense of pride..

 


© Copyright 2017 Thomas W Peterson. All rights reserved.

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