Gone Ragged (Poetry)

I loathe this stubborn sack of flesh
that daily heaves itself about
it won’t give up but grunts at life
too little breath to rage and shout

Instead it lumbers room to room
or slumps uneasy in a chair
the ache of living like a song
repeating on the listless air

It’s lost the shape I recognise
it looks and feels an ugly thing
I seem a stranger to myself
I can’t escape this crumpled skin

Whoever thought to photograph
my healthy youth was cruel because
I cannot help but look and mourn
the energetic girl I was

I long to shed this ragged coat
shrug it off and grow a new
and sleeker version that won’t crease
the way this old one’s prone to do

My spirit’s young and yearns to fly
an aging body’s crippling
but death will claim it by and by
and let the inner self take wing