You Won't Let me Believe It

The planks

In the

Rocking

Chair

Are 

Rotting out.

You're only used
To them
And your
Fifty
Years
Of
Coffee.

I cling to your legs
When you
Stand

[Like a child].

Your
Tired
Tattered hems

Proclaim:

We aren't 

As invincible

As we 

Used to 

Be.