As red wine strips fill the glasses
And smiles all over your faces,
The joy of being young and free
Makes you want more pieces of Brie.
What chances do you take each day,
To try and fight the aging slay?
You go to clubs and have some fun,
From early wrinkles try to run.
You are afraid of losing this,
Being driven in the abyss
That family and taxes bring
When your life’s web becomes a string.
Malicious lines thrown age’s way,
Jokes about having your hair gray,
Dancing to freedom in the night,
Symphony for your youth’s delight.
Time passes between happy bits
And trouble everybody meets.
Concocting plans while young is grand,
When hourglasses strain their sand.
Does life’s beauty lie in youth?
Do you need any further proof?
Do problems get worse and worse?
Does age come with much remorse?