My Day

I want to write about my day
But the activities so trivial don't seem worth the time
Pointless electronic dithering
And senseless solo card playing
Fill hours of time with nary a thought used
Just whiling away the times of my life
While outside life really goes by
My day
So boring and uneventful
Seems like so many before
And I wonder if this is now my life
Housebound and weak, barely even here anymore
It's a blow to the ego to find you've become
Just a boring old guy
Spending time as though there were an endless supply
Yet gnawed upon by the thought that this will be
The end of my days