Tinkle
This poem’s about incontinence – I hope it will not give offence.
Tinkle
I’m getting old-there’s nothing sadder
Than conversations with your bladder.
Tinkle, tinkle, little pee,
Don’t leave a trail for all to see,
Once from worry we were free
To have another cup of tea.
Obedient my bladder then;
Did my bidding where and when.
Next Wednesday I’ll be 94
I’d better be prepared for more.
Time marches on, and things get worse
(I shouldn’t put this into verse–)
For many years you’ve been my friend-
Are we coming to the end?
Though I know it’s not a crime,
Make sure you wake me up in time.
Thank heaven I am not there yet—
Still in charge, and dry, not wet.
©2023 Laurel Cooper
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