I wasn’t sure who I should call,
The fourth time that I hit the wall.

I laid there, staring at the valance,
Waiting to regain my balance.

My sense of balance really stunk,
Yet, for once, I wasn’t drunk.

The therapist said my crystals fell,
Off the rods my ears held so well.

(I knew eventually crystals would be an involved.)

My wife suspected that I had a stroke.
In the lonely night, just before I awoke.

But with a stroke, I wouldn’t only miss the bed.
With a stroke, I would have woke up dead.

So, a nautical lesson, as I slip.
One hand for me, one for the ship.

When I’m home, and not out sailing,
It’s time to go install some railing.

My grandkids’ and my worlds collide,
Because we both can slip and slide.

I just find it very wrong,
To be diagnosed with a U2 song.

(At least, I wasn’t diagnosed with Mysterious Ways.)