There’s an old man waiting, <br />I know he’s there, <br />In early morning fog; <br />Or trees that bare, <br /> <br />He waits for all. <br />Not only me, <br />We can’t see him, <br />He’ll never flee, <br /> <br />But I know he’s there, <br />And will always be, <br />An old man waiting, <br />For you and me, <br /> <br />For some are young, <br />For some are old, <br /> When our time comes, <br />When we are told, <br /> <br />The time has come, <br />To take the last breath, <br />He’ll be waiting, <br />An old man called death.<br /><br />B.J. Ayers<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/old-man-death/
