Aging Poem by Terry Hoffman
Aging
You're a baby when you're born,
for nine long months you hid.
Two, it seems, the magic age
when you become a kid.
Teen's threshold arrives at twelve,
young adult is at eighteen;
middle age is thirty-five;
enjoy what's in between.
When fifty looms before you,
you'll find yourself less bold.
When you hit that sixty-five,
then you're getting old.
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: aging
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