He lays on a bed
aware that he is crumbling
away
wishing he wasn’t
or at least
if it must be so
that he was nicer
to look at
so many visitors
smiling
staring
he wants to say things
that will be remembered
he wants to say
I loved you
in my own way
but when the young ones come
out of duty
he wants to yell
not for the awkward way
they stand
as though old age
might be catching
but because he knows
they are killing time
until they can laugh and flirt and drive away
he wants to grab them
implore them
time is offering herself up to you
don’t hasten her along
like some sufferable companion
there will come a day
when you will give anything
for one more
breath.