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It’s Something Called AGE

Do I hear a knock, knock?
My reverie is rudely interrupted
as I plumb the depths
to another world.

Something suspicious is creeping in
with jarring aches and numbing pain
repeated reminders
of life losing its rosy hues
to listless, grey fatigue.

The silent struggle
pelted by fading sound
dims fury’s fire
bottled in a sagging body.

Forget those senior moments
staying “39” forever
now wrapped in wrinkles
listening to crackling bones
climbing the stairs to nowhere.

Sensitive to sunlight’s glare
memory fastens to a melody
munching mechanically
on tasteless fiber
while walking off those extra pounds
clinging like seaweed to cushioned fat.

The air laced with fumbling complaints
meets thinning top hair
sprouting elsewhere in speeding abandon.

That afternoon nap freshens minds
caught in tech mishaps
visiting streams of doctors
pushing pills aplenty
with no end in sight.

“In my day…” sounds hollow
as reality casually slips into
that sly sleeve called AGE.