Ageing poorly, poor me!

I know in my deepest core,
what a bore,
what a chore it is to see me,
what a bore
it is to be me, I see it clearly
roles reversed in time
now the old man just whines,
that deficit
of deep generosity she has
is a scarcity in me,
I don’t know how to stop the slide
my hull is careened
waiting for a higher tide,
what a bore
to be self-obsessed and learning
how awful you really are.

C26