If I should Cuss

I'm at the age if I should cuss,
It is expected from disgust.
Of growing older not to trust,
The future to anticipate safe and secure...
Done in the hands of the ones much younger,
Is guaranteed to come.
If and when...
The dumb down doings to experiment today,
Has not begun to begin an ending.
For many awakening to realize and see...
Stupidity and ignorance kept to keep it lived,
Is neither a benefit nor progress.
For anyone to believe,
They should be proud to have been left...
A mess of a cesspool legacy!

I'm at the age if shouldI cuss.
Or heard to fuss about what today offers,
For the young people to expect and receive...
Accolades for imitating what is seen on TV,
Doing it done for fun.
Without being nurtured or encouraged,
To acquire skills and talents.
With a doing to take the living of their lives,
Seriously and leave.
All their nonsense behind.
To believe and understand for themselves,
A tomorrow yet to come...
Is in need for them to be,
Competent leaders using  common sense.
With intelligence to recognize,
Decisions to make can not be successful...
By sitting on a fence.
With eyes closed shut.
Claiming to be in meditation mode.
Awaiting for 'spirit guides',
To arrive and assist...
With the right decision to make.

That time has come,
For those much younger than I am today...
To observe and witness for themselves.
That I am not just an aging man that cusses.
But I do admit I am disgusted.
How easy it is to accept fiction to live it.
To turn away from it too late.

As if the future awaits for grown men.
And women too to expect the future,
To patiently tolerate...
Minds not taught lessons to stay prepared.
For what could be theirs.
Without creating alibis and excuses to blame,
On others.
Others who had not wasted their time,
Playing games and having fun.
Like some have done to age,
Until it's too late.
To believe and think they are prepared...
For a future that has come.
With announcements made of this doing.
As the ones much younger,
Continue to delude their youth...
Is a permanent existence.

While refusing to pay attention and listen,
To those who also did the same thing too.
But then one day it comes to happen.
Aging woke them up to see...
Themselves growing older rapidly.
With a losing their ability to play,
Games outdated and leaving them...
Unable to compete,
In a World fast advancing forward to adjust...
To artificial technology with intelligence,
No longer science fictioned.

And if I should cuss from being disgusted.
To hear it heard to do in public.
It is not so much that I am aging and fast.
But no one younger,
Who has kept up with these times.
Seem to have no time to help me,
Learn how to program my cellphone.
Done to answer it if I should get a call.
Oh...
I must say it is small.
And miraculously has these plastic wires,
Attached to my chest.
But not connected at all to my small phone.
To say the World has changed,
Is understated!

'Excuse me?
Do you mind if I ask you a question?'

'No pops, go ahead.'

'Well...
I don't want to make excuses,
About me getting older.
But...
When my cellphone buzzes.
And remove it from my belt.
To put it to my ear.
The buzzing doesn't stop.
Nor do I hear a voice.
Why do you think that is?'

'Phone?'

'Yes.'

'How long have you had that phone?'

'Not long.
Maybe 10 to fifteen years.
I was told to carry it around.
Then when I'm at home,
Plug it into a socket.
To keep the battery charged up.'

'LOL.
Pops?
You're kidding, right?'

'No.
Not at all.
Here look at it.'

'Pops?
This is not a cellphone.
This to me looks more like,
One of those heart monitoring devices.
Or..
Could be one of those pagers.
And...
Very old it appears.
Is it possible you attached to some kind,
Of monitoring device?'

'Only a couple of plastic wires.
Attached to my chest.
But...
This phone doesn't ring.
It just buzzes now and then.'

'I see.
I recommend you contact your doctor.'

'Why?
All he says to me,
If it should buzz call him immediately.
But...
When I attempt to do that.
And put it to my ear.
The buzzing doesn't stop at all.
And no voice I hear.
Your phone?
Where is the dial?'


'Stop.
Dial?
LOL.
STOP.
LOL...
Are we on candid camera?
You old folks always find a way to joke,
About everything.
Pops?
You're funny.
But...
I was on my own cell talking to a friend.
He's across the street.'

'Where?'

'Over there.
He's the one bending over.
Trying not to fall down to his knees.
Listening and laughing at the both of us.'

'How?
How can he hear us from way over there?'

'Pops, stop it!
You remind me of my grandfather.
He's hysterical.
You and he should become a comedy team.
And take this stuff on the road.
Did you pick me to test your material?
Now look at my friend.
Holding onto the streetlight pole.
Crying from laughing so hard.
He can't believe what he is hearing.'

'I'm serious!'

'I know.
That makes it even more funny.
LOL.
Pops?
Thank you.
Whew. You too much.
If Richard Pryor was alive,
Or Paul Mooney?
Hearing this stuff?
You and my grandfather,
Would be contacted to be their warmup act.
No joke.

Pops?
I needed that these days.
What did you ask me?
Does my cellphone have a dial on it!
LOL.
I gotta go before my friend gets arrested,
For public indecency.
Lord, help me, please.
LOL...OH MY GOD!
Does my cellphone,
Have a dial on it!!
LOL...