Age Poem by John Shea

I taste a chocolate broth run down my throat
Ensure I thought with awe
Damn I said to myself
Put me in another boat
I can still take care by myself
Paddle my own boat or float
Good gracious now I cower
They offer mechanically ground
Pureed and smooth
I will refuse
Cause I need crude
Lock me in a room
I will never care
Allow me to stare at a mirror
You see me and I not you
Then my image and life
Reflects back to you.