suddenly I'm old the illusion of youthful
vigor impossible to maintain others notice
and are embarrassed or at least regretful
knowing the good times have to end and
God knows what transpire before I die
is it now or do I just need the right drug
to reverse disintegration bounce back for
another round of fun more decent work I
have to hurry up and finish or am I finally
a feeble old man unable to make the effort
let me retain my equanimity at least friend
of the inevitable the end of biography ever
death and loss of everything that mattered
whatever loved survivors regard as virtues
or character I'd offer them a fond goodbye
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