5. Leg-less
My wobbly legs don’t take me far
They buckle with the strain
I end up kneeling on the ground
And I can’t get up again
A little frail old lady
Tries to help me to my feet
Someone from a nearby shop
Rushes forward with a seat
Between the well intended
I’m sat there in the mall
They collect up all my shopping
That scattered in the fall
From the shoe shop some-ones coming
With a cup of hot sweet tea
Drink it up its good for shock
They seem more shocked than me
So I thank them for their bother
As I stand they seem amazed
With my shopping and my walking stick
Stagger homeward slightly dazed
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
Added by Poetry Lover
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