08 May

Aging in a Cage…

Crazy old fool moving back and forth, rockers on the chair worn, staring through tattered curtains; windows with bars.

Obscure old fool your seasons are gone; you have no more mountains to climb; hours, days months reliving the rags of time.

Once respected, mind strong, now all day you rock away; aging in an asylum cage declining senses, your fingers cannot hold a pin or brush.

The poems in the mind have no paper, no canvas for images of color, and within your own sphere you know longer care.



Posted by on May 8, 2015 in Poetry


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2 responses to “Aging…

  1. calensariel

    May 9, 2015 at 3:40 am

    That’s a sad poem…

    Liked by 1 person

    • elizabeth ann johnson-murphree

      May 9, 2015 at 7:16 am

      As you know by now, my writing comes from a sad and lonely place. This could be the reason for lack of sales for the books. Yet, within them can be found my life, a pinch of this and that. Have a great weekend. Ann


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