Testy now, and truculent,
Jumping to conclusions,
I tend to speak before I’ve thought,
A source of some confusions.
When I was young and in my prime
I would have paused and pondered
Before I’d let my mouth run free;
My mind would not have wandered.
Now, grumpy and cantankerous,
I’ve no wish to be told,
Despite the fact the signs are there,
That I am growing old.
For age and life have brought to me
Such exasperation
That now I speak my forthright mind,
Inviting much vexation.
Now I’m content to be quite brusque,
To stir up some dissent.
My time of life has brought disdain,
I’ll say just what I meant.
With one foot in the waiting grave
Why pussyfoot around?
Just tell it as it is, my friend,
No comebacks underground.
As usual your poem is beautifully written, Roland.
I just wish somehow you could exchange grumpy and cantankerous with smile and wisdom.
After all, your life has been given so much beauty. …
Cantankerous is quite a fun word though.
miriam
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You’d be wise not to believe everything that comes out of my poet’s hat, Miriam. Many thanks for responding.
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I will now be wise.
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