Woe Be Me

( Here is a poem that was inspired by none other than Michelle Monet :D)

Photo by Alex Harvey 🤙🏻 on Unsplash

Oh woe be me, What a mess I’ve come to be,

Why can’t I be more like a cat 
and just climb a tree?

Instead, here I sit…
Trying not to have a 
Fit.

Here on my perch, I mournfully linger,
The numbness that threaten to lose their grip in these
fingers…

When my phone landed in the toilet,
I did surely gasp.
In my throat, my breath 
Did rasp…

I wonder and ponder in a few years, what will be my fate?
Will my memory cease to 
Cooperate?

So many times, I forget to start the car,
Without the motor running, I shant go far…

Oh my goodness, what in the world will come of me
In just a few short years,
In my tub I may install a railing,
Lest I lose my footing and my arms go
A’ flailing…

On reality, I hope to keep a grip,
For surely upon the iceberg, it’s just
The tip!!

Thanks for reading!

And now for the poem that inspired it!

J.G.O — Just Getting Old

by Michelle Monet

The other night Bob came home and moaned:
My blood pressures high 
My joints are cracking
My hearing is going 
My brain waves lacking.
My back teeth are throbbing
My feet are just sore 
My eyes are damn blurry 
Do you want more?

J.G.O. he slyly muttered 
Just getting old Just like our mothers.

So, I joined in the rhyme 
And started my ranting,
“Well I can’t jog a mile —I groaned 
Without panting”.
I go to bed early
I need beauty rest. 
I don’t drive far distance
 Staying home is the best.
I go to Walmart 
But I can’t find my car
It could be in Alaska 
Kuwait Or — Qatar?

J.G.O he slyly muttered
Just getting old — Just like our mothers.

We keep Tums by the bed now 
Stool softeners too,
Dr. says we need fiber
More vegetable stew?
He jokes C. R. T! (Can’t remember shit) 
The clothes we wore then
Today barely fit.
Bob and I are quite the duo
No doubt we’re getting older
Both in our mid 50s 
We’ve got crinks in our shoulders.

J.G.O he slyly muttered
 Just getting old Just like our mothers.