Prediction Poem by Not Long Left

we shall for a time strain to see out the storm
clearing debris with weary fingers, picking
up broken shards of fallen dreams, gathering
them, holding them close to our sunken chests
the babies are no more, they have aged and
have survived and moved on. twenty years ago
i would spend the nightly hours watching you
sleep, i would always love you the most then.
for in sleep you was pure, silent and pure,
a little girl wandering through the world, kissing
nana, and hiding grandpa's musty worn slippers.

but now whilst you sleep I sit bleary eyed watching
low budget sex movies, lusting silently after the
black vixen with her shimmering river nile legs.
the old redundant friend wakes and reminds me
that there is life in the unused. then comes the
stirrings of shame, I am too old for this. hauling
up my tired brittle frame groping through the darkness
I put myself to bed, and wipe the spittle from your mouth.