as the clock ticks

As The Clock Ticks

Shall I resign to old age be a kind elderly man
who sits on a park bench and smile to passers by,
and wait for something, not knowing what it is,
but serenely accept the ending of the script and
not fighting back as brain cells die and my body
is a ruined edifice where the elevator has ceased
and the plumbing is unreliable?

Much time has been fritted away on sugar coated
banalities, sweet tarts and grapes of the reddest
kind; hang on, I’m so wrong, tell myself lies, this
was life, that and bawdy songs agreeing with my
sentiment; my salient friend literary learning is of
little use, hollow pursuit, what matters is human
companionship, the rest is a waste of time