Poem: Bumping Into Things

Bumping Into Things
By Victor Rook

Stumbling and fumbling while on the go
Wailing and flailing I’ve come to know
For lately I lack much finesse
What I’ll hit next I can only guess

Doors seem narrower than before
Right from the top down to the floor
My aim on entry is out of whack
Sore shoulders result from their attack

In the kitchen once an open cupboard
Left me stunned and then I shuddered
For I turned away then jolted back
And it met my forehead with a thwack

Hitting my head is a common affair
Inside or out any time of year
Like leaving a car a bit too lame
And smacking against the inside frame

Or leaning too fast in close proximity
To something hard within the vicinity
I must be blind to these hidden spots
A conspiracy in which my body plots

Soon revealed are telltale signs
Of how I moved outside the lines
The shower unveils cuts and bruises
Recent proof of all the abuses

We mustn’t forget stubbing our toes
A misstep of sorts with woeful throes
Worse it is if it suffers your nails
A pain in which everything pales

Upon this desk from which I write
I swing my legs up every night
But if I’m off within my spin
The corner wood will crack my shin

Pain does hang when you bang a bone
Like a hammer slip it makes you moan
You want to scream or cry or both
But as adults we take that oath

To grin and bear as best we can
And move on with our daily plan
Until next time a part is struck
And then we’ll blame it on bad luck

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