My Bum Leg

Have pity on me
my bum leg and I, are not friends
at the moment,
sleepless nights, worrying
waiting for its way of seizing the moment
and tightening its grip
on me,
I forget, if it was wrestling alligators
or stock car racing, that all my distress,
has caused?
Or motorcycle accidents, resulting in
a wooden leg, filled with Whiskey
parrot on my shoulder, sporting
an eye patch,
Or was it a woman?
sleek and dangerous
having missed stabbing me
in my heart of all places,
hitting instead my once young leg
filled with life and hope
before gambling and liquor stole my youth
leaving me but a bitter old man
limping along on my once upon a time
strong as an ox, marathon running
appendage, with curly brown hair
wowing the girls, breaking hearts at command
never looking back, nor regretting
leaving her with the child who would never
bear my name, never know who the man
with the damaged leg, and damaged soul
really was?
The walks taken, the mountains climbed
hanging for my dear life, sherpas yelling
“The Team Leader” has fallen”, his life
ebbing out, his once healthy leg, crushed
under the weight of the steel girder,
stopped in his prime saving the child
when the earthquake threw that building
at him, The look on the face of the Paramedics,
knowing that I might never walk again, destined
to live out my existence writing of the love
who broke my heart, my soul, leaving me running
running after her, slipping on that banana peel
watching my life, my leg pass before my eyes….

Have pity on me
my bum leg and I are in one word, “not” today
if only I could remember, why?…