Inchies Ode of Hope (Humour)

I need to have hope, again,

Can I? I'm not really specific,

Anytime, can come the final curtain,

I wish I could write in Hemingwayan,

But I've not got a clever enough brain,

I'd love to go to a retreat, possibly Himalayan,

Where money's not needed for life to sustain,

Where decency, compassion, one can maintain,

Without ridicule, by moron or villain,

When everyday activities are more of a pain,

Nowadays, just getting out of bed is a strain!

Knowing one will be abused again,

Vascular Dementia, my hopes are slain,

 VD brings depression, and many a bane,

Although I try to be polite and urbane,

My hopes begin to slowly drain,

Thought-Storms attack, as a mental chicane,

One gets ideas, more dangerous than butane!

Gone are my years of being a bibliomane,

Saccade, hearing loss and back pain,

Peripheral Neuropathy, a stroke came,

Diabetes, I even got stung by a drumbledrane!

Life seems to be going against the grain...

Life is getting to be extramundane,

Life is now, without a doubt, insane...

People are getting less humane,

Even I am becoming a lexiphane,

Bald as a badger, I have no mane!

Much of this Ode seems to be nongermane,

It's like my brain is hidden in a subterrane,

I'll stop now and have a mug of tisane...

From losing it altogether, I must abstain!

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Should I snuff it tonight,

Don't fret, not that anyone might...

I'll be content, with no thoughts to fight,

In fact, I'll be better off... well, I might!

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Formulated for Fun - Please don't take this serious!

I Thank You!