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I Would If I Could

An old man sits on a public bench
And eyes up every passing wench.
Recalling sometimes wistfully
What life was like at twenty three.
When he was looking for romance
and was prepared to take a chance.
But now he is content to dream.
No longer has to plot and scheme.
His days of thrusting youth long gone
Although the urges linger on
He lacks the capability
To perform adequately.
He can't do what he used to do
It takes some getting used to

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Added by Poetry Lover
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