Just A Number
Misbehaving twenty-somethings—
Marching in a row
Aggravated sixty-somethings—
Have forgotten what they ought to know
Oldish and youngish—
Not sure wherefore is the right
Love comes in from the other way;
It’s gonna be a very long night
End stage eighty-somethings—
Head for their nursing home bed
Unaccountable teenyboppers—
Would rather be most anywhere else instead
Newborn steamy babies—
Shine with all their total love
Dead and buried 100-somethings—
Soar with the praeternatural deities above
Numbers adhere to the ages—
It pretty much adds up well
Who old are are you?
Won’t you tell?
Posted on November 15, 2016, in Poem and tagged age, ageism, ages, alzheimer's, babies, beginnings and endings, callow youth, collective future, cycle of Life, death and dying, immaturity, Life, love, marching, maturity, numbers, nursing home, social awkwardness. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
Kitt