Good Mourning

I wake up in the morn and mourn
I mourn about my pain
About the shape I’m not in
I beat myself up
I mentally abuse myself
Until I have the strength
Until I can check to see
The parts of me that work
And feel fine
and the parts of me
That don’t work so well
Or perhaps even quit
I spend my morning mourning
Feeling sorry for myself
Reaching slowly for
The pills on the shelf
I used to take them for pleasure
I took them for fun
Now I take them because I have to
Because I can no longer run
It’s appalling
I’m crawling
Itching and scratching
To the point of pain
and I’m sprawling
Hurting deep inside
I would if I could shed my skin,
Like a lizard or snake
To be who and what I am
And to loosen the fake
Shed the old skin and all the pain
That which was old is young again
But life’s not like that
Not even for reptiles
You can revive the outside
But you can’t hide the miles
I spend part of every day
Wishing I could take away
The past, the times
For which I now pay for
Each and every day for
The older I get the higher the cost
Sometimes I forget or get lost
Between the pills I have to take
In order to remain the fake
I have to be to make
The best of what, I’m not sure
At times I know I’m too much
At times I’m not sure how much
More even I can take
How much longer I can be fake.