Old Age Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Decrepitude, dementia, old age
The silver surfer daily counts the pills
Stalking the spotlight on life's fleeting stage

Stents keep the heart pump-pumping in its cage
And medication stems the surge of ills
As sprays restrain the bugs in herbiage

When does the book attain its final page?
When come the lawyers clutching deeds and wills?
Now everyman can be an ancient sage

No teeth, poor vision, deaf to all but rage
That bodies fail, wear out…no lovers' thrills
The wreck of youth and vigour can assuage
Time's hourglass, no longer weakly spills