On Old Age - A Poem To Ivor Hogg Poem by Sidi Mahtrow
On Old Age - A Poem To Ivor Hogg
Once again I stop to think
Is there a reason for all this stink,
And then remember it's the dishes in the sink
That were left when I went to take a wink
And there they lay for too many days
Until the mold grew thick as clay
With green tendrils and red amongst the black
Just because I chose to spend time in the sack.
But when you're seventy six or so
Who's to question what you do?
s
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/25/2024 11:14:34 AM # 1.0.0.1119
