So fifty is the age we yearn for youth.
Tick tock ovaries and gonads dry thin.
So fifty is when our heartache uncouth.
An aged soul uncompromising locked in
A clock is winding down in mocking jest.
There are those who say time’s delusional
Amidst lines and wrinkles, we’re not our best
Death by minutes and seconds is normal.
Air inhale all space all food all shit.
The planet hot since we are the hoarder
To die: nature’s law to which we submit
The earth turns us into fertiliser.
Our children we give our mind and heart
Shrivelled and senile, this world we depart.
For đtc(&i)