Old

I’m killing myself before I grow old
I see the elderly
Shaking and quivering
Words spitting through their dentures
Never good words
Words of insensitivity
Words of everything that’s wrong with me and my generation
Maybe, just maybe, my generation is right
Maybe, just maybe, all those years of bitterness that you have
Came from secretly seeing your world fall down around you
That’s why I’m killing myself before I grow old
Because I don’t wanna live to see some smart ass
Writing a poem about what’s wrong with me.