I Am Best Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
I Am Best
I am best
He looked like a (Baby)
Of (Boomers)
Tall, wrinkled and folded
Wore a cap, and dark shades.
Standing by the light, was in rush
Red was light, could not cross.
He became a boxer:
“I am best.”
And threw his punches
At switch on the post
No toggle, no stop…
Was it age?
Or conscious?
Or anger from rage?
Forgotten, abandoned?
Thursday, October 1, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: aging
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4/25/2024 1:26:13 AM # 1.0.0.1119
