[Old and Unreadable] Max's Thought-Provoking Poetry

Growing Old

One of humanity's greatest fears is age

The continual turning of the page

But why do we flinch away from this?

A natural cycle of the gentle persist?

Us and those around us grow closer to death

Our bones start creaking and we lose health

We lose our beauty, we lose our charm

Our fun is over; is this really growing up?

However, with this evanescent outlook

I really growing, or is that just how we look?

True wisdom is only acquired from age growing

And life's meaning can be acquired from knowing

Knowing that you are aging, yet not dwelling

Identifying your resources, and not selling

Taking each day your way, in a gentle rhythm

One that can only be found when growing