Old Age Poem by David Wood

Old age, he doesn't come alone,
He brings his friends along.
His best friend is Arthritic Bones,
Who bites you when it's damp,
And no one wants to hear your moans.

Old age reminds you when it's cold
When biting chill winds rage.
You can never get your revenge,
So, it's not good to hate,
And there's nobody to avenge.

Let old age be over quickly,
Starved of its oxygen,
Then its sting can no longer harm.
That's the final revenge.
And the only way to disarm.