The Jogging OAP
I see him every morning as he jogs the local paths,
I think his age is 83, but I'm not that good at maths,
He does look like he's past his prime, and puffs and pants a bit,
The faces he pulls as he runs around, looks like he needs a shit.
He makes me feel inadequate, and ashamed I'm not that fit,
I feel I should be jogging too, but think I'd look a twit,
I'd struggle running up the hill, which leads to God knows where,
I'd fall to my knees and gasp for breath, and gulp in tons of air.
Passers-by would speak to me and ask if I was ill,
As I lay in the gutter panting, at the bottom of the hill,
I'd rolled all the way to the bottom, after falling to my knees,
I'd reply with gasps, "I'll be alright, just let me lie in peace".
Meantime the older running man, passed by, and raised a smile,
He hadn't realised that I'd been lying there a while,
He tried to help me to my feet, and said I looked quite sick,
He helped me get up off the ground, and hit me with a stick.
He was a little mad you see, and maybe quite insane,
He then got out a rabbit's foot, and ran away again,
He said it was his lucky day, and he didn't want a fuss,
He stepped off the path and was killed outright, by a passing omnibus.
Phil Soar's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Jogging OAP by Phil Soar )
Did you read them?
- Sips through lips, Aftab Alam
- The Mature Woman 2, Tex T Sarnie
- Invitation for Re - Opening Ceremony!, sisirachandra vaduge
- Unbarreled Gun, Edwin Cordero
- Thread of thought, Roann Mendriq
- Baking Bread, Roann Mendriq
- Completion, White Lily
- Tears, Michael McParland
- Spin of a coin, Tribhawan Kaul
- Knowing Fragments, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Poem of the Day
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
- Heather Burns
(6 January 1878 – 22 July 1967)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)