My clocks keep ticking
kind of like my beating heart.
Pity the clocks will most likely
outtick my aging heart.
Ironically or maybe not ironically
my clocks have more time
than me and my heart.
They probably could live
hundreds of years and
still be ticking.
While my heart if lucky or unlucky
might make it to ninety and nine
and never beat again in this
dead body, far less reliable than
an uncomplicated ticking clock.
Bob Boyd
Author: BobBoyd
Age 80. Cancer survivor since 3 years ago. Work out 3 times a week. Ride my exercise bike 2 hours a day. Live a solo reclusive life. Retired a year ago from working with the elderly in a nonprofit. Started writing poetry a little over a year ago; most poems I write are fictional but some are not. Spiritual with a permanent spiritual experience. Write poems on many subjects. Always researching for many of my poems and because of my unquenchable thirst for knowledge. After reading and hearing about many near death experiences and death bed visions, I believe death is the ultimate awakening and the relocation of a lifetime. You may believe differently, but you have the right to be wrong -- I'm just messing with you. :-)
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