‘Twas the night before

The night before

Christmas

And all through the house

Several creatures were stirring

And all of them cats

I had wished that the stirring

Was a well-shaped blond

But then again

At my age

I couldn’t respond

It is insane

Crazy

Down right stupid

And dumb

Despite all my problems

Despite the fact

That

Physically

I feel

Like

I’ve been drug through a knothole

Backwards

I feel

Fine

Better than fine

I feel

Normal

Of course

Normal

For

Me

Is weird

It’s late

It’s way past the time for repose

But my mind whirls

As my body decays

You’d think

That

Body, mind

And spirit

Would act as

One

But the truth is

And always will be

That one

Fights

Incessantly

Against

The

Other

Two

Life is a maelstrom of

Doubt

Stress

Disbelief

And sheer boredom

Only a fool believes

That he

Is

In control of his fate

And

I

Am such

A

fool

The mind restlessly searches

The body fears the search

As it has grow far

Too old to

Follow the minds desires

And yet while it acknowledges

The body’s limitations

The mind

Continues it's

relentless pursuit

I am as it were

Two people who inhabit the same body

The physical, which admits my inabilities

And the mental, emotional, spiritual

Which ignores them

I am a private man

A solitary man

By choice

As well as by fate

I both

Chose

And not chose

To live alone

A paradox probably

But

None the less

True

But everyone

Seems

To assume that I’m fine with that

When I'm not

Well not always

True

Most of the time

I am

But not today

I seek for release

I seek for release from the problems that now require my attention

I truly desire release

I true desire an end to the problem

But I have no power

No magic spell

No secret potion

The ball is in some one else’s court

I loved them once

Or at least was in lust

I thought well mistakenly

That they felt the same

I thought a reasonable person

One who at least

Shared a common goal

What I fool I was

I believed

I trusted

I had faith in another

How dumb was that

I stand to lose nothing

Which matters

Except

My ability to trust

Nothing makes sense

Anymore

But the fact that I know

Or at least I hope someday it will

I really don’t care

What the “end game” might bring

I just wish that

The “end game” was now

I think that cats are the prefect animals

They do no work

They sleep

Purr

And eat

And yet so-called intelligent animals like me

Let them get away with it

Even care for them and love them

I would seek the place of quiet

I would seek the place of peace

My soul

My inner being

Would seek it gladly

If it only

Truly

Inherently

Knew where to look