Andropause

No feel-good poetry to grace your eyes Just cutting honest words aimed here to slice Bloated egos and self-exalting platitudes Vexations that expose a vicious attitude. Perhaps the malady we trace to Andropause Aging signs that irk and rave without a cause! Resistance to the truth the finish lines draw near Body's weak not agile, how fast the passing years! Missed chances and the morass of regrets Wrinkled lines that multiply each time the sun sets, Ouch! The aches and pains that plague the burdened frame! Arthritis comes, your phonebook's filled with doctors' names. You're getting old and that's one sheer painful truth No wonder the acerbic lines that sprout from bitter root, Aging makes sour outlooks and revile the heart It even acids poetry with the things that we impart. All rights reserved ~~~Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~03.03.14