Working on Getting Older
Never ending job, until it ends
I clock in every day, without fail
To work on getting older
Pluck out my hair
Paint the leftovers white
Drain the oil from my joints
Replace it with crackling gravel
Help the world run past me
Fill the bags under my eyes
With regrets and salt
Squint until the world gets bleary
Leaving only my perspective
Train the tufts in my ears
To catch words I don’t want to hear
Press replay on my old stories
Again and again and again
Obsessed with where I’ve been
Taking no responsibility
For where we’re going
Such a thankless job
We’re all asked to do
And we do it
Day after day, as long as we can
Because we’re all afraid
Of unemployment
——————-
Apparently circling back to some old themes. The first story I ever posted to Vocal:
About the Creator
Sean A.
A happy guy that tends to write a little cynically. Just my way of dealing with the world outside my joyous little bubble.
Comments (4)
Such a creative take on the topic. Loved: “ Press replay on my old stories Again and again and again Obsessed with where I’ve been Taking no responsibility For where we’re going Such a thankless job We’re all asked to do”
Very thought provoking and so well written! The progression from the physical elements to the broader scope was seamless
This resonated with me too, Shaun. Great piece.
I no longer work, other than pursuing my writing, but my body seems to be doing exactly what you shared. This in particular got to me, "Fill the bags under my eyes,With regrets and salt"; some days, despite practicing mindfil techniques, the old "should have's" can be haunting. As for the joints, well it's a losing battle. I am happy you reshared this; it's very good.