Before we turn into a stiff <br />life has four stages––here’s the riff. <br />The first stage is when we are young, <br />a story that is gladly sung, <br />and lasts until we’re sixty five, <br />and after that if we’re alive <br />we enter what’s now all the rage, <br />and called by most the “young old age.” <br />It lasts until we’re seventy-four, <br />when we pass through another door, <br />becoming what is called “old old, ” <br />which lasts till eighty-four, I’m told, <br />when all lapse into old that oldest, <br />the stage where only those who’re boldest <br />may dare to play their final role, <br />until they’re buried in a hole, <br />unless, of course, they predecease, <br />and can’t attend your obsequies.<br /><br />gershon hepner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/four-ages/
