BEING OLD

Being old is gathering bits of memory from moments gone by
Each moment becomes grain of sand sliding into the bottom of a cracked hour glass
The crack widens as time goes on, letting more and more sand slip through
No way to mend old broken glass, and so the sand is lost, never again to be found

Being old is having a body retaliate for the neglect and abuse it has endured for so many years
Beatings, rape, overeating, over worked, no rest, shame, guilt
Pain is with every movement, every action, even just sitting still
A old body that has had a lifetime of being abused and neglected does not forget or forgive

Being old is having constant thoughts of past mistakes
Wishing, wanting always to replace those past bad moments
Knowing always there is no redo, no retake, no second chance
Once a moment is gone, once that grain of sand has dropped into the cracked hour glass, it is gone forever

Being old is being tired of so many things, of life itself.
Now it is time to wait at death's door, wanting to leave, yet not
Never knowing the moment the door will open, and finally there will be no more pain, lost thoughts, or the many regrets
Being old is always wondering if this will be the day the broken hour glass will finally empty