Life Flies By

Childhood

You're a baby in a pram

Next a toddler caked in jam

At ten you're down the park

With friends until it's dark

Youth

Down the street you stagger and shout

A teenage know-it-all.

Plummeting shirt, skirt too short

You feel invincible.

Tottering on towering shoes

So full of drink you fall

Middle Age

All at once those days are through

You are responsible

Demands rain down bombarding you

From place to place you fly

Unending lists of things to do

Your aspirations die

Old Age

The cruel mirror is reflecting

A stranger back at you

Her pale wax skin slowly melting

Her dead eyes disapprove

Later has crept past capturing

your dreams along the way

Once full, your life now vacuous

You're closeted away

White haired, skin crumpled, transluscent

Flaunting its green-veined map

Ball-bearing joints, crooked and bent

Toffee-brown stained fingers.

Twisted double as you shuffle

Inch by tortuous inch.

Dead hands grasping at your ankle

Pulling you to your grave

Your mind begins to wander aimlessly

and Death firmly grasps your withered hand.

A familiar voice murmurs softly

In your ear. You listen; it fades.

A brief scent of perfumed lilies reminds

You that your time has almost through.

Your tired heart gives up its foolish battle

Releasing you to walk another path