Discombobulated

The older I’m getting
Time seems to pass quicker
I’m used to forgetting
Dates and events –
I struggle to remember
People’s names.
That’s bad enough
Then twice a year
The clocks change
I always forget
To alter my watch
(I do find it tough.)
My body clock
Is thrown out
For at least a week
Discombobulated
In other words
I’m “Up the Creek”.
Is it a Government plot
Designed to confuse
The daft elderly
Like me, who can’t
Keep up with change
Call me, a dopey old crackpot.
Never mind, according to the wife
I could be dead!
Or I could be confined
In a padded cell
There I could yell
About messing with time.

Mike

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