Month: June 2015


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Unaware and unwary,

I scorn his pretensions;

Flaunt my youthful strength,

Ignore his puerile rant and cant,

Knowing I’m omnipotent.

But my illusions are his strength;

I rely on lies to myself.

The years serve him in covert ways;

My fleshy resolve fades until

He demands unconditional surrender.

And I? I give mute consent

To be his bond servant,

For our chimerical freedom;

To serve until we are released.

We resent our pale aging flesh,

Yet he denies us our release.

We dispute and redefine

The term and terms of the contract.

His bony fingers trace the lines;

Here! The fine print reads,” he says,

until the debt is fully paid,

You must serve as my nursemaid.”

I wash his tortured feet,

Massage his arthritic joints;

We suffer from remembrances

Of what once was, or was not.

I warm his wrinkled body

Attend phlegm clogged airways,

And watch his palsied pacing

Past rheumy, crusting eyelids.

Shaking, I feed and dress him;

Stumbling, I wear his worn shoes.

And fear we shall live forever

While he fears that we shall not.

We go to bury or to mourn

Those who loved us, or did not;

I remain silent as he claims

Even my name as his own.

But sometimes he’s not unkind,

And not altogether evil

When I mistake him for myself

As we share the gruel of Time.