Time is a Brutal Mistress
Time is a brutal mistress.She doesn't give a hoot.
My hair turns gray then falls away
My teeth fall out to boot!
My skin is like a wrinkled suit
That doesn't seem to fit.
And on my word, my joints, absurd,
Are poking out of it!
I've extra chins I must admit
And those jowls and droopy eyes.
My buttocks sags, My eyes have bags,
My thighs are supersize!
Gimme a break I mutter
To the mirror on the wall.
I still have my memories
Of that summer in St. Paul...
Or was it in Duluth
In the fall of sixty three,
Or was it sixty seven?
What was her name? Lets see...
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.