Poetry

Cruel Age

You are so cruel when you take away
The quickness in my feet 
The cleverness of my brain
The wicked laughter that comes with age
Pulling you from your younger days
Wrinkles to form
Hair turns to gray
There is no price that you can pay
To ask the years to go away
They follow to your dying day
There are few things more cruel than age
But know it's a gift
Day after day
What some would give
To be able to say
 I lived to be 
Seventy eight
Be thankful God chose you to stay
Even if it seems cruel
To grow and to fade
Feel more weak every day
Fingertips numb, unsteady legs
Some will never see
Eighty eight
Life took their age
I know their families would say
I'd do most anything
For a single more day
I'd beg and I pray
For the cruel age of ninety eight

© Hannah Truelove 2018

Cruel Age

You are so cruel when you take away
The quickness in my feet
The cleverness of my brain
The wicked laughter that comes with age
Pulling you from your younger days
Wrinkles to form
Hair turns to gray
There is no price that you can pay
To ask the years to go away
They follow to your dying day
There are few things more cruel than age
But know it’s a gift
Day after day
What some would give
To be able to say
I lived to be
Seventy eight
Be thankful God chose you to stay
Even if it seems cruel
To grow and to fade
Feel more weak every day
Fingertips numb, unsteady legs
Some will never see
Eighty eight
Life took their age
I know their families would say
I’d do most anything
For a single more day
I’d beg and I pray
For the cruel age of ninety eight

© Hannah Truelove 2018

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