When I Am Old

When I Am Old

People have different perspectives on getting old. Some see it as an inevitable evil at the end of life. A time of misery and suffering. One friend even told me once that they wanted to be euthanised at 50 as it wasn’t worth living any longer! Others see growing old as just another enjoyable chapter in life. A time not to be feared, but welcomed.

Today’s two poems compare the two views of ageing. This first one is a very negative view.

When I Am Old

When I am old, I will wear a flat cap
As I walk to the bathroom, my jowls will flap
And my ankles will break with a sickening snap
Then I’ll fall to the quickening ground

I’ll fall to the quickening, quickening ground
As my ankles break with a sickening sound
And my head will throb with a thickening pound
I will lie on the floor until, stricken, I’m found

When I am old, I’ll be fragile and frail
I will wither and waste, til I’m sallow and pale
And my head will explode with a shattering wail
And my brain will be splattering red

The walls, my brain will be splattering red
As a wail rings out from my shattering head
And the ground rises up as a battering bed
And the neighbours will cry, “What’s that clattering, Ed?”

When I am old, these will seem just as much of a novelty...

When I am old, these will seem just as much of a novelty…

...as these

…as these

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