Second Hand

Many times I have watched the frequent tick and sway of a clock’s second hand

But the minute and hour hands frequently advance when you blink or look away.

According to physics time’s relative but I disagree.

When I was a child a day lasted an eternity.

As a young adult, time was still on my side.

Although the pace of life steadily increased as the number of days grew,

Eventually my mind and body began to slow and show

Some signs of the ravages of time.

Now on the long side of fifty I’m an absolute wreck.

Gray hairs and wrinkles are no longer shy

And have the last laugh as they multiply.

The scale tips the wrong way to make me sigh.

Half my teeth have been replaced by a full upper plate

And the ones on the bottom now know of their fate.

Many are the injuries and surgeries my body sustained

But worse of all is the haunting depression of my caved in brain.

To be held hostage by this illness for the rest of my life isn’t fair.

You have hope, trust and aspirations of which I’m well aware.

I trust and hope to live in the house of the Lord,

The sooner the better as I can ill afford

More of this torture in a coat made of hair.

I aspire to expire, donate all my organs,

Recycle the titanium hip and gold teeth, if still there,

Then be one on pyre and get the hell out of here,

Take a glorious ride beyond to the other side.

With my luck when I get there the gate keeper will say,

“We’ve gone Green now and this is Recycling day.

Back you go, for how long I cannot say.

You might be a woman or maybe a man,

LGBT could be part of the plan.

Your shelf life has dwindled so you won’t start from scratch.

You'll return as an adult in a cabbage patch.”

Life Preserved in Word