Age wears at my brain, un-synchronised, imbalanced and faltered
My withering melon head, rots forgetfulness, as memories dwindle
Rising gasses seep from the pit of my stomach and through these calcium deficient gaped teeth
Foul stenched morning breath breaths, turning into a sigh, because its morning, another morning
Showered, dressed, fed, and refreshed, a slice of orange to give me zest.
The dark nights are drawing in
Vautaw & Desmond thank you for the like
There all just words Don
Better out than in
The cathartic WOL
Is my lottery win
Thank you for your words though
About my withering, rotting brain
Without your repetitive comments
My WOL experience wouldn't be the same
So to you and Thale
I take it that's your muse
I bid farewell an thank you for
Your feedback, on my monday morning blues
?
Gosh, you're in a bad way Phil.
Thale is worried. She suggests perhaps you didn't listen to the stars and follow their guiding hand to the winning lottery ticket?
We're not cheering him up here are we Thale?
We're sorry to hear about you Phil
The gasses which seep from your pit
Your wearing-out brain and your withering head
You'll have to just get on with it
That should cheer him up......
?
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Jon
Mon 29th Jun 2020 19:29
Loved this.