There is a line that we all cross,

a numbered line called age.

Tis not the same for each who dwell

a simple turn of page.

For some it's just the number “T”

thirty, forty, fifty.

For others it's their wealth or health,

lack of both hits swiftly.

Muscles and bones talk back to you

when silent in the past.

You count the summers of your life,

how many more will last.

You add up all the money, toys,

to figure out your score.

You dwell on places never seen

and wonder if there’s more.

Some think about their age too much,

and worry the years away,

while others beam of what they’ve done,

tomorrow’s one more day.

Michael Charles Messineo 2008