Topic: Sixtyfive
These were my thoughts as I woke up this morning only slightly modified for verse, rhyme and decency reasons otherwise it is as it occurred to me at 6.15 this morning.
65. by Phill Williams. 29/11/16
When I wake up every morning in my head I'm still 18.
But once my eyes are open, my youth was just a dream.
A dream of summers hot and long.
Of Christmas trees and Christmas songs.
Of swimming, running – snowball fights.
Of young romance on balmy nights.
Suddenly I'm back to now.
65 and freezing cold.
My arm is cold above my head.
It cant be moved – oh God! It's dead!
Under sheets to get it warm.
Pins and needles as blood returns.
“It's gone to sleep” as my mam once said.
Until it does it feels like lead.
I roll-up now into a ball.
So cosy under blankets warm.
Till my knees hurt and my back hurts too.
My stomach shouts out - “I NEED SOME FOOD!”
And what my wife has called for 30 years.
“That useless piece of skin” – not hers.
Has found a new lease of life it seems.
Bathroom time....I need a pee.