I can’t quite remember when all of this first started

When all of my friends became the ‘sadly dear departed’.

I always thought of old age as a nat-u-ral transition

Not realising I’d end up in this regrettable position

It creeps up on you slowly, a thing you least expect

Longevity or mortality, words that have a stark effect

What friends you used to have, seem much sicker than you do

Comparing aches and pains, ailments are the last taboo

And then as time passes, they’re dropping just like flies

It’s a funeral nearly every month to say our last goodbyes

You sadly learn the extent of your social circle’s thinnings

Even when you know with no regrets they had a decent innings

Then do we get cremated or much prefer being buried

Is it a hearse or horse-drawn carriage, in which we’re hoping to be ferried

These are the choices we won’t make as others do us proud

And pay their respects when we are gone with tributes said out loud

But before all that occurs my friend, we have to bear in mind

It’s an age-old thing we’re not ready for, I say this to be kind

There’s no way to avoid the inevitable, we can’t completely foil

The Grim Reaper when he helps us Shuffle off this mortal coil