Baked - Not Quite Fried

Baked - Not Quite Fried

When pieces of the whole stop working

You know eventually what is broken...

Like poor ‘Ole Humpty Dumpty - ‘it’ cannot be fixed

It is the waiting; that ticking time bomb clock

That is and its’ constantly repeating -

“Did you put the chicken wings you brought me in the frig?”

As the body loses functions some slower than others

We witness how it might be for us who remain

Straining at our own seams - struggling with our hopes -

While depending on whatever faith we might have remaining;

While attempting to hold up our partners as well as bringing

Ourselves up by our own sagging boot straps...

Plans have to be rearranged, altered, - have been changed

Responsibilities rendered, by those in attendance -

There is no room to ‘chew the fat’ -

There is no timetable, rhyme or reason - There is no

Escaping the winter season as darkness looms... It doesn’t

Matter how warm it is outside or how short the ride might be

We have to clasp each others hands walking as a united unit

Being satisfied at being able to fulfil others needs before our own

Wishes - as we fill the center of the generational ‘sandwich’

©JP/davh