Piker Press Banner
June 27, 2022

On Growing Old

By Dan Mulhollen

On Growing Old

In the Middle ages,
So say the learned sages.
Kings my age were often called "The Old."
Yes I feel the pains,
Of unforgiving sprains.
But I'm not yet thick with grimy mold.

My mind is sharp and clear,
Even moreso I fear,
Than in those days when I was in my prime.
Then my writing was sporadic,
For nights up in the attic,
When I wrote when the mood was worth the time.

I once wrote a series,
Of a future theory,
Where politics were local and astray.
I thought it quite perceptive,
Editors sent notes rejective,
And events made it obsolete anyway.

Finally with no assumption,
I finally found the gumption,
To make writing an almost daily thing.
No longer an "undiscovered genius,"
I've become a realist,
I am good, but hardly Poe or King.

I've visited Niagara,
But might need a Viagra,
For adventures that need might imply.
I still can be quite flirty,
And meet a woman of say thirty,
If she has no objections, why should I?






Article © Dan Mulhollen. All rights reserved.
Published on 2019-06-24
Image(s) are public domain.
0 Reader Comments
Your Comments






The Piker Press moderates all comments.
Click here for the commenting policy.