Day 16 of NaplPoWriMo 2020 -- When You Get Old
They'll Clip Your Wings
When you are old they'll clip your wings
Take your license so you can't fly
Hide your car keys so you can't drive
Put you in a home keep you there
Do things you want and can afford
Fly while you can soar with the best
Drive where you want still while you can
When they put you on the shelf, done
Then it's over can't fly no more
You'll contemplate what you can do
More so over what you have done
Your love life your kids where you've been
For on that shelf there is no more
Memories you'll savor can't plan more
They've taken your keys clipped your wings
Doors are shut at night on your shelf
Maybe then you can write your poem
The story, https://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2017/09/fridays-hunt-v411-k-is-for.html?m=1
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- Poem and Photos Copyright, Jimmiehov 2020
- I am linked with Kerry O'Connor in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2020/04/april-2020-days-16-20.html?m=1 from where I was led to a former Day 16 prompt for 2016 on broken statues by Karin, aka Outlawyer, at https://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2016/04/in-remains-of-this-month-april.html?m=1
- I am also linked to NaPoWriMo Day 16 at http://www.napowrimo.net/day-sixteen-7/
- The Eagle? In the middle of the night the bookshelf above it crashed down and broke both wings. It now sits in the pantry on a shelf.
Labels: Cars, NaPoWri Mo 2020, Poem, Real Toads, Syllabic Form
posted by Jim @ 4/16/2020 05:55:00 AM
6 comments
6 Comments:
Sadly, Homes for the Aged are not the best place in these terrible times. My heart goes out to all!
"Memories you'll savor can't plan more,".. this is such a heartwrenchingly beautiful write!
Oh, so sad, that beautiful car being taken away. Sigh. So many letting-go's in this lifetime, Jim. I hate that the eagle's wings got clipped.
We wonder what our elder years will bring... It's hard to let go of the things we love...I doubt you are ready for a shelf.
Well, finally writing the poetry must be a good thing!
They’d better not try to take my car keys or put me in a home. My daughter wouldn’t let them. And they won’t stop me writing poems either!
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