By P.A.Davies. When. A poem of realisation

When? A poem of realisation

When did I decide to swap my nights out for the telly?
When was it acceptable to carry such a belly?

When did I begin to crave my pjs and my slippers?
When did it become the time to purchase nasal clippers?

When did I … like ever … care about my constitution?
Now I’m eating prunes to help resolve a lack of movement.

When did I begin to tire so far before eleven?
When did peace and quiet turn into my idea of heaven?

When did I decide to tune my radio to Smooth?
And what’s with all that chart filled noise they try to pass as groove?
Hip-hop-rap-crap, garage, grunge, all sounds to drive me mad.
Oh when oh when, dear Lord above, did I turn into my dad?

When did the kids that I was down with, get children of their own?
When did I start to talk to me whilst bumbling around my home?

When did all my body parts begin to creak and moan?
When did simply standing up not pass without a groan?

New spectacles, old testicles, the latter on decline.
Pills for this and sprays for that, to keep me feeling fine.

Mirrors show a different me, to the image in my mind.
I can’t deny – nor can I hide – those bags beneath my eyes

My hair – or should I say what’s left of it – is slowly turning grey.
My eyes are dim, my skin less taut, I’m pissing more each day.

If only I could turn back time, reset the youthful clock.
But would I change the life I’ve lived? No … probably not.

So, here’s the thing.

Despite the fact I’m getting old, despite these ageing signs,
I’ll seize the day as best I can until it’s time to die.

For looks and age won’t mean a thing, when lying in that box.
So I’ll resolve to love my life, before the reaper knocks.

May I suggest you do the same?

Thank you.

The end.

P. A. Davies 2019
#poem #when #life #amwriting #poetry

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