Old Poet's Lament

Author having found his eyeglasses.

I’m sitting here trying to write

with a toothache, having barely

gotten over the gout.

To my disdain,

I’m using a cane,

wobbling, and

bumbling about.

Gimping over to pour me a

mug of coffee, I clumsily

navigate back to my chair.

Spilling a drop,

as down I flop.

Everything hurts!

Ha, anyone care?

Where the hell are my glasses?

I just had the damn things, now

they’re nowhere in sight!

This writing stint,

I’ll simply squint,

scribble out words,

and try my best...

really try my best,

to be less uptight.

But hey, you know

what they say:

No pain. No gain.