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