Just a little poem to hopefully make you smile.
That stranger that you see each day
With baggy eyes and hair so grey,
Is that really me?, you ask yourself
As you use a stool to reach the shelf.
Whatever happened in my life,
who can I blame?
I’ll blame the wife!
T’was her that made me old and slow,
Whatever happened to my “Get up and Go?”
What made be become so slow and bent?
My get up and go
Simply “Got up and went.”
But I shouldn’t really blame the wife,
For without her I’d have an awful life.
I’d have to cook, and wash and sew,
And make my bed, and clear the snow.
And a million other tasks I shirk
While concentrating on my important work.
But the thing that really makes me snappy,
Are those little kids, they’re always happy.
Laughing and running and making a noise,
Disturbing my peace with their unending noise.
I don’t ask for much, just some quiet and a smoke,
A paper to read, and a fire to poke.
A hot meal on the table/whenever I’m ready,
Not little kids with their stories, and Teddy.
If you think I sound grumpy
Then maybe you’re right.
But so would you be
When you can’t sleep at night.
With youths blasting music
From their souped-up cars.
I really crave silence
Or soothing guitars.
Play me the music that everyone sang
The music I loved when I had a gang.
Not this modern rubbish,/ all Rap and DJ’s
You know, good music, like what that Wogan plays.
Ah well, off to bed, another day gone.
Tomorrow approaches, it’s just after One.