A Poem: A Lonely Hubbers Lament.

I sometimes wonder why I try, when all to often I'm left to sigh. I do my best, I think I rest but sometimes feel they're not impressed.

I feel the pain, I feel the hunger, I sometimes wish that I were younger. A sharper mind, a quicker wit maybe that is some of it.

I'm slower now I'll give you that, words used to fly out of my hat, no longer though it seems to me I have to struggle frequently.

'Twas in the past when I'd sit down and rattle off the pages, I sit here now and realise I've not done that for ages.

I sit here now and as I ponder, I think of pages filled with wonder. Is everyone the same as me feeling low and unhappy.

What do I do I want to know, when other hubbers treat me so. I sit forlorn as I lament why all my readers don't comment.

So help me please my fellow scribes don't let the tear drops reach my eyes. When the answer I have found, be assured I'll pass it round.

A Poem: The Office.

Poem: Last Thoughts of an Old Man.