As age takes its toll and our bodies fail. <br />The young sit around and listen to our tales, <br />Of days long past, when we were young, <br />And the world was ours with a song to be sung. <br /> <br />But time goes so fast, and with it us, <br />Expected to grow old without a fuss. <br />Too sit and wait, and contemplate, <br />What comes after the dying date. <br /> <br />What to expect when the last trump calls. <br />Do we really enter those marble halls <br />To stand before Gods golden throne? <br />Stripped naked, and alone. <br /> <br />Or is it beneath the clay we stay, <br />As our bodies rot away. <br />And go back wence we came, <br />Just part of mother earth again?<br /><br />Brian Joseph Dickenson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/age-5/
