When I'm Old

If I’m old and gray and full of life
I’d wonder how did I so long survive
Through all the wax and wane
Without losing a drop of sane

Sitting with a pen in my hand
With the hourglass running out of sand
I wonder at 22, where I’ll be at 82
Will it be a time to bid adieu

Fret not my soul, I’d say
For soon it will be the month of May
Leaves drop, flowers bloom
I’ll never on the life that I had fume

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

When you are young, why fret about old age? Gather ye roses while ye may. Don't look to the future, but live the day. That's where your lines took me :) I enjoyed this little read.

Chris