Old Timers Lament Poem by Owen Cullimore

Old Timers Lament

He sits by the fireside in the old Travelers Crest
A pub that he frequents when he needs a drink and a rest
So he can cogitate all the events of his life
The pain and the suffering, trouble and strife
With hearing now faulty, deaf in one ear
Eyes misting over, wetting his beer
Arthritic knees that click into place
Which show up his age like the lines on his face
His sexual conquests a thing long since past alas
A limp looking todger that has since been put out to grass
No longer the bird puller he used to be
Now the only crumpet is the one he gets for his tea
A quiet pint of beer his only true friend
One that will remain with him until the very end
Constipation and Prunes the order of the day
Otherwise he will be in a bad way
Such is life we hear him say
Tomorrow will be a better day
But it never is, never fear
It has not been his whole career
Visits to the Doctors to put cream on his piles
And to the Hospital regularly which means walking for miles
Draws his pension weekly, that, s all that, s left
Without it he would be broke and bereft
His old black and white tele went out with the Arc
And his insomnia ensures he is up with the lark
Old Mrs Bucannan, at number twenty-tree
Always was inviting him round for a cup of tea
But as he's got older and more miserable she gives him a wide berth
Which might also be down to his much wider girth
No longer the slim Dandy he used to be
His excitement now limited to a nice cake for tea
Once a great dancer, so light on his feet
Now more like an Elephant, just fat and indiscreet
He smiles at the ladies as he passes them by
But they ignore his good mornings as they just pass him by
The Grandchildren think he's an old fart
Who sooner or later will be carried away on a cart
And they can share out the money he may have in his piggy bank
Up in the loft by the old water tank
But unbeknown to all, he has been a wise old bloke
And turned the tables on them just for a joke
He been visiting a brothel down Princess Street many a day
And with some of the ladies, having his wicked way
Can't take it with you he thought to himself
So went about spending his ill gotten wealth
Visits the Bookies in Windover Lane
And watches relentlessly his money disappear down the drain
His wife sadly passed away a few years ago
And never felt the need to bring a new wife in tow
Happy with his own company down at the Pub
With a pint of Guinness and a pork pie for grub