The Old Man.

They say old is gold,
That the best wine is that of old,
That the wisest are those with hair grey,
A lie, I say, to lead us astray,

Old age is a curse,
For naught can you fit all your wit in a purse,
As with a dreamer, you lose touch with reality,
Common faces indiscriminately forgotten: your friends, your family,

A stranger to yourself,
Maladies can't help but befriend you,
A miles journey reduced to strife,
You can't even enjoy your wealth, the best things in life,

Your body is not your own,
A man grown a mere pawn,
Your skin, hangs loosely to your bones; parched earth,
Your eyes sunken voids lacking the mirth of youth,

Made to watch as lifelong friends are buried,
Spouses and children, they all fold,
Your mind becomes a universe filled with memories and stale thoughts,
Your dying wish, if only man could live for eons.


You are only young once. You've got to get it while you can my son, before this creature creeps in.