LostInTyme
Practically Family
- Messages
- 539
The calendar is ticking,
and the clock is winding down.
The end of a long road,
is ever nearer.
The light at the end of the tunnel,
has begun to fade.
My bones, once strong,
have become thin and brittle.
My once supple skin,
is now wrinkled and spotted.
A falling leaf,
can cut me to ribbons.
What hair remains,
is grey or snow white.
Once I was strong and muscular,
now I am weak and bent,
and every joint screams in pain.
My sight is fading,
My hearing is waning,
Hums and buzzes are my constant.
How cruel, aging treats us.
My mind, is ever brighter
more electric then I have known before.
It makes me think of things,
yet to do, but out of reach,
in the remaining time.
and the clock is winding down.
The end of a long road,
is ever nearer.
The light at the end of the tunnel,
has begun to fade.
My bones, once strong,
have become thin and brittle.
My once supple skin,
is now wrinkled and spotted.
A falling leaf,
can cut me to ribbons.
What hair remains,
is grey or snow white.
Once I was strong and muscular,
now I am weak and bent,
and every joint screams in pain.
My sight is fading,
My hearing is waning,
Hums and buzzes are my constant.
How cruel, aging treats us.
My mind, is ever brighter
more electric then I have known before.
It makes me think of things,
yet to do, but out of reach,
in the remaining time.