My Mickey

Slip me a mickey.
I’m sorry I don’t know
What’s too little or too much.
I wasn’t taught but only how to show.
Slip me a mickey.
I’m sorry I’m so slow.
I get confused but slowly it seems less of late.
As I gain age and gain less as I grow old, I’ll soon no longer be able to give anymore.
Slip me a mickey one last time.
Yes. Let me have one last farewell of one dose of letting go.
One. Last. Time. To let go of another.
For this is all I know.