Ageing, Without Grace
Bent up and broken,I no longer feelquite alive. My knees are as brittleas twigs fractured by theflames of a devastatingwildfire. Age and accidental foolishnesshas claimed my youthfulness,yet I refuse to yield to aninevitable demise. Subjected to a diagnoseof decay and abuse,my body has relinquishedall possible flexibility. Tortured by aches and painsthe difficulty of complicationsmakes it almost impossible toconceal my dire circumstances. Though reluctant to accept,the overpowering facts clarifythe evidence that I amwell past my prime. Motivation comes fromstubbornness and ignoranceagainst the medical establishmentand its grim predictions. Instead, I fight against decayand the reality of mymortal existence. A man fixated onperseverance against the oddsmy opportunity to survive. Ageing without grace.