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  • Writer's pictureGarathe Den

Geriatric

He wore a very course fabric

That Geri "Ole" Atric

So many looked past

The display of that habit

Just grumbled emphatic

A rasp all in static

And gummed on hard candy

All day if he had it


His shoes were long-trotted

The laces all knotted

His pants cuffed so high

Revealing ankles all spotted

His belt-buckle prodded

From the leather dry-rotted

And the handkerchief tucked in his shirt

Was all wadded


His knuckles were swollen

His noes and ears growing

His wobbly knees

Prone to buckles and bowing

Each day he was slowing

Yet kept on foregoing

And he walked with a cane

Else he'd surely be fallen


His eyes had dimmed-vision

His hearing imprisoned

All senses abandoned

And failing their mission

Yet each day had ambition

To rise with precision

Just to sit on his porch

And glare at kids with suspicion


He had trouble walking

And breathing while talking

And all of his teeth

We're indentured in caulking

His joints were all knocking

His jaw prone to locking

And just like his shoes

He had holes in his stockings


On the days he'd go out

There was never a doubt

That he'd check on the lawns

By which ever which route

And such things he would scout

Like the cracks in the grout

And let each neighbor know

Of their faults with a shout


And the children would scamper

When they'd hear him come stamper

And even the dogs

Would go hide in a damper

And no matter the manner

Seemed all life tend to scatter

And just saying his name

Was a tool used to hamper


So now when you get old

And you start to erode

And your mind just forgets

Everything you've been told

I hope you feel consoled

Knowing you'll be so bold

Just like Geri "Ole" Atric

And the life he yet holds


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