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Twenty one years a man grows
To become a full human.
He will battle all life's woes
And must prosper if he can.

Another score and one years he grows
To be now a full grown man.
By this time his role in life he knows
And has honed his acumen.

Yet a score and one years he grows
To be fully confident.
By this time the seeds he throws
And starts to become redundant.

Twenty one more years he grows
And may display highly polished weapons
In things pertaining to mind and soul.
But he is now in expiring seasons!

He may enter another twenty one
To be a hundred and five years,
But he is now but a child of his son
And cowed by all kinds of fears!

A further lease a few may start
But like a child they often cry.
They are simply far from smart!
And in this season they'll surely die!

Six twenty one year leases of life
Is the most anyone can get!
Years are no preserve of the wise;
One needs luck and a lowly mindset!

Methuselah got plenty of leases:
Well over nine centuries of life!
It was closer to man's origins,
When man's body could long survive!


                        Genesis 5: 27

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