Growing Old
Threescore and ten
The good book says
So he’s well over-spent
A younger man with years in hand
Would frown upon his mortal end
Yet he in deficit
Is more ready than me
Overtaken by a changing world
He’s left behind leaning on a stick
His friends have gone one by one
And he is left in pain
With trembling hands he drinks his tea
And talks repeatedly
Of memories from yesteryear
In resignation
A courageous smile graces a wrinkled face
Etched in wisdom of years gone by
And says
It’s time
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