The 12 Miseries of Christmas (No.9) for the elegance of decay Comp

 

Age Old Reflection

Christmas, New Year a time for reflection
a time you experience family rejection
they point out every imperfection
many fingers pointing dissection
with a hate filled introspection
no I am not the model of perfection
Just a victim of others preconception
I raise my hand; an objection
preaching family insurrection
given another injection
for my latest infection
disabilities collection
aging circumspection
to old for bull shit recollection
missing love and affection
there will be no resurrection

these issues with aging
has a mind disengaging
forgetful mind prison caging
stopping socially engaging
ire turns to raging
ongoing frailty is staging
life of regret enraging
one foot in the grave gauging


I fear the process of dying
of giving up on life trying
and just not complying
the tears I am crying
my eyes are not drying
my faults not denying
all regrets, all the lying
and the gods I'm denying
salvation; not buying
my religion I'm defying
on prayer there's no relying
others guilt I'm implying
they're lies overlying
there's just no denying
with whiskey they're plying
but they're treachery I'm decrying
seeking help they're not replying
the medics poking and prying
on my behaviour they're spying
Then the drugs they're supplying
hallucinations of flying
so I'm now misapplying
with a most heart felt sighing
no chances, no retrying
no chanced of undying
pain and sadness I'm dying

this skin I will shed
when for you I have bled
voices stop in my head
are silent; unheard
but I never, ever fled
I chose bravery instead
memories I will shred
with blackness embed
with my bible unread
to no light I'll be lead
but no longer the dread
I'm not worried by death
nor fear of last breath
because dead is dead
there's nothing to be said
you're deaf, dumb and blind when your dead