For 5 long years I’ve lived beside these other senile twits

In this home for retirees, biddies and Old Gits.

To offer some excitement I read my poems out loud

And started to attract an appreciative crowd.

40 perhaps or 50 folk attentively sat round

Hanging on my every word like I was Ezra Pound.

I read to them my comic verse (I pride myself on wit)

With tragedies and histories and monologues a hit.

The time flew by unnoticed, marking passing hours

My audience unnoticed too, wilting like dead flowers.

As evening loomed I looked around to see the crowd had gone

Apart from two old diehards - Gloria and John.

Since they were enthusiasts I kept on with my rhymes

Until the Night Nurse joined us announcing our bedtime.

My illusions shattered instantly as they were led away

I realised with horror just why they chose to stay;

It seemed they weren’t so fond of verse, hanging on my breath

But Gloria has got no legs and John’s completely deaf.