August 28, 2010

Growing Old

No one tells us when we’re young
That we’ll end up so old
Life’s an endless game of fun
We play all brash and bold

But soon we heard rumors
That life was not a game
And things that we all knew
Just will not stay the same

Later on we catch a peek
Of what life has in store:
Wrinkled hands and bones that creak
One gray hair, then some more

Aches and pains felt now and then
Too soon they take their toll
Then we just sit and think of when
Our shoes had much more sole


  1. This poem made me smile. I had a great-aunt who loved to remind me and my siblings that we wouldn't always be young and that we were probably wasting most of our youth. Being young we didn't listen anyway - lol!

  2. So so true have defined it so very well and I love the last line of your poem. Have a great weekend my friend xx

  3. i refuse to grow least in how i act...

  4. Growing old can come as a bit of a surprise.


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