Growing Old

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I have been sick for just over a week now and find myself tardy for Chel Owen’s Terrible Poetry Contest. I’ve read everyone else’s wonderfully terrible work and thought I’d submit a late submission. Hope you enjoy my terrible attempt at Burlesque poetry.

Growing old
If I may be so bold
Is a fate that really does blow
Things start to leak
Nothing’s at peak
And ear hair begins to grow
The girls may be hot
But it’s all for naught
There’s nary a twitch down below
My backs gone out
I’ve a bout o’ the gout
How I got here, I just don’t know

If I may be frank
Damn, my mind has gone blank
I barely remember my name
Gravity’s a drag
Pulling down on my bag
Wearing shorts only brings me shame
Life can be blunt
Getting old an affront
To how we once played the game
I’m a retiree
I’m well past my expiry
How did I get to be this damn lame

Written for Chel Owen’s Terrible Poetry Contest at chelowens.com
Date: 2022-03-18 | Form: Burlesque | Prompt: Aging/Ageing

Photo Credit: Cristina Gottardi via Unsplash.
Copyright 2022 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.

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8 thoughts on “Growing Old”

    1. Gr8BigFun Post author

      Thanks Chel, I can’t recall ever being as sick as I was during that TPC cycle. I was certain it was COVID but the Rapid tests kept coming back negative.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply ↓

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