sister collected dolls
We hit all the garage sales
We avoided the shopping malls
After years and years of shelving
There wasn’t enough room to house
All the things we gathered
Not even the pewter mouse
So boxes became a necessity
To hold our new found treasure
We had to pack them up
For later viewing pleasure
The boxes grew and grew
We arranged them in piles
We kept on adding more
They soon became walking aisles
We were so pleased because the boxes
Were loaded with our collections
People said, “Get rid of that junk!”
We were offended by these suggestions
They also made rude comments
Like, “Your house smells very musty!”
I told them the advantage of boxes
Saves time on housework, nothing’s dusty
Now it is the present day
We have no place to sit or eat
We can’t have people over
Because we can’t offer them a seat
I’m sure it will all work out
They’ve come out with self-help books
For all of us collectors
Who no longer have empty nooks
The flea market is here, but I’ve cleaned up
I think I’m in remission
Maybe if I sell some stuff
I’d have enough for a ticket of admission
They tell us we are hoarders
I think we’ll still get looks
My sister is up to seven
Now she’s hoarding, hoarding books!
Save My Soul
I’m naked as a jaybird
I don’t need to be clothed, it’s understood
There’s no reason to dress for the ending
It doesn’t matter if I look good
Time has passed, this life is over.
The normal aging has taken its toll
Now it’s easier to bare my body
Then, it will be to bare my soul
Who will meet me when I arrive
Will someone come to take my hand
Am I important enough for God himself
To walk me into the promised land
At the end, we learn the answer why
We’ve been given so much strife
We find dying is not the mystery
The mystery is the life
If no one comes to greet me
If no one offers me a hand
I’ll have to return to the living
Another enigma that God has planned
I will not question the meaning
But I will set a goal
To follow the Ten Commandments
To try to save my soul
Unaware
When we reach a certain stage
Where we no longer get to decide
It leaves us without our hopes and dreams
It leaves us horrified
The choices in our future
Are no longer up to us
We don’t want to draw attention
We don’t dare make any fuss
The survival of the weakest
For us is very real
Even if our minds are sharp
They, determine how we feel
If we put up any protest
And we have a white head of hair
It automatically causes judgment
With “I don’t think that she’s aware.”
It’s possible that we’re not
We ask, “What is this new pill?”
We’re told that we must take it
We’re not allowed to exercise our will
We stay alive for your next visit
At first, you come a lot
Then it dwindles to nothing
Now we don’t care if you come or not
Why does it surprise you
That we have lost our appetite?
Or that we sleep during the day
And cannot sleep at night
We’re not interested in what you say
We can’t hear to really care
We’re
