Old

I am feeling
A bit old no longer
Compelled by a constant
Urge to pick up a mace
Smash an enemy to
The ground finish
Them off before
They can rise,
I’d rather a
Cup of tea
Biscuits
(Cookies)
As I muse on
A fighting song
I taught my sons
When they were kids
Beset by bullies in the
Married students quarters:
“Smash ‘em
Bash ‘em
Make ‘em feel bad,
Knock ‘em down
Beat ‘em up
Make ‘em feel sad.”
A jolly ditty we
Laughed to
As they
Went
Back outside.