Adequately sizable, built for comfort,
with a welcome sign on the door.
The back yard resembles no resort
but it holds the hammock I adore.
It started as a concrete foundation,
it was we that made it a home.
Being a true homebody is my avocation,
seldom feeling the need to roam.
I’ll go to my grave a slave to a mortgage
but my final resting spot is here.
I’ve gotten so damned used to the money hemorrhage,
where I’ll breathe my last is quite clear.
Life once held more adventure and spice,
willpower and stamina would dictate.
I’ve now found the joy of a recliner is nice
and no grandiose story will I need to create.
If I start sliding faster down the slippery slope
allow me to do it within these walls.
No hospice, where they’ll prop me up with false hope,
I’ll be right here when the Grim Reaper calls.
Submitted for the Anything Goes challenge in an effort to show support for the challenges
© 2012 AlwaysMyWords
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