My memories rushing, out with the tide
Tears welling up, bubbling goodbye
Feeling good and bad times, slipping away
Body’s braking, hair turning gray
The elders have lapsed, and now are devoid
Scattered away with, the other broken toys
More are slipping, with times we enjoyed
The only slap left, is being unemployed
© 2014 Michael Yost 04/13
Michael's Lair 