Behold how it creeps up on us

Like an intruder.

Stealing our cherished youth.

That confounded robber!

It leaves us like an empty shell,

Shaky and dreary.

seuss-aging1Looking like a shrivelled witch,

All haggard and scary.

We tire easily day by day,

Overcome by impotence.

No longer sprite and full of health

We now lack confidence.

We remember with sorrow

And also pain,

The money spent on cosmetics

Were only spent in vain.

Then like Ponce De Leon, we seek

To find the fountain of youth.

But in that we soon realized

There’s not a tinge of truth.

So sadly we then agree

That youth’s wage

Is not paid by everlasting beauty

But by age.


One of my first poems written when I was about 15 years old.


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