Funny...
Sitting..watching minute hands
Wanting time to pass
Waiting..for the moment...
To be gone
Why?
At sixty eight..hell..one would think
You'd want to stretch it out
Why.. does every minute waiting
Seem so slow
And damn frustrating
Tapping toes..restless fingers
Surrounded... by a host of kind
Aches and pains...a cough or flu
Holy crap..
This be you
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Author:
James Perrin (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 5th, 2026 03:23
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 33
- Users favorite of this poem: Paul Bell, Cheeky Missy, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments4
Time such a relative thing depending upon one's mind and where it is at the moment. Nicely written
Yeah...I'm younger now
Congratulations
No joy in that.
Remember, age is just a number.
Okay, 68 is a big number, but on the plus side, turn that number around, and some 86 year old is passing by in a hearse wishing he was 68.
On that cheery note I'm off for a nap.
Well...if he's wishing that...he better be driving the damn thing
James, what a relatable piece. The humor keeps it light, but underneath is a very human reflection on time, aging, and the restless impatience that somehow never leaves us. And that final “Holy crap… / This be you” lands with a grin and a wince at the same time. Really enjoyed this one, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you
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