I remain healthy in retirement, so it’s not worth complaining about some of the minor issues of old age. I prefer to be humorous when it comes to my weak bladder. Perhaps I’ve been a bit obsessive about writing regarding my frequent trips to the bathroom in the middle of the night with the thought “Not Again?” I know you’re also probably saying, “not another poem about pee? Not Again?” I can’t honestly promise this will be my last stab at toilet humor. The first reference to this “problem” was three years ago and has been mentioned in 18 different posts. What I’ve found is that many fellow seniors can relate to this subject so it’s important to make others feel that they’re not alone. It’s worth a chuckle or two.

Senior Curse

I could once sleep ‘til noon,
Without interruption.
But now my bladder,
Is a constant disruption.

What now is a dribble,
Was once a squirt.
Instead it’s a trickle.
No longer a spurt.

Every two hours,
I have to go.
I can feel the urge,
Starting to grow.

I never pass,
A place to pee.
I no longer drink,
Coffee or tea.

Caffeine’s my enemy,
Beer’s even worse.
I’m a sad victim,
Of the Senior Curse.

If I hold it too long,
It might spring a leak.
But despite any strain,
It still comes out weak.

The Force isn’t with me,
As I step to the plate.
Even those times,
When I just can’t wait.

My tank seems full,
But no Tiger’s in there.
Sometimes old age,
Just isn’t fair.

Copyright 2020 johnstonwrites.com