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It’s All Right Not to Be Able

There comes a time when what once felt natural begins to falter.

Tasks take longer, memories slip, and patience from others grows thin.

This poem does not ask for sympathy, nor does it offer easy comfort.

It simply gives voice to the quiet indignity of being measured, hurried,

and blamed—when all that has changed is the passage of time.

 

“It’s All Right Not to Be Able”

 

Being hurried—

the anxiety of things that must be done.

The frustration of what once could be done but now cannot.

The irritation of being made to do things.

 

Being tested—

the anger of being forced to prove what you can do.

The resentment of what you can no longer do.

The resignation that says

it’s all right not to be able.

 

Being blamed—

the shame of being known as unable.

The pain of being known as diminished.

The defiance that says,

so what if I can’t?

 

Why is it that

simply because one has grown old,

one must be hurried,

tested,

and blamed—

why must one endure such humiliation?

 

It is only that

forgetfulness has grown

a little more frequent.

 

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