When you’re very young you don’t see the need for it.
When you’re a teenager you fight it and them succumb to long periods of it, often for days at a time.
When you're twenty you fit it in now and then, usually in-between clubbing and gratuitous sex.
When you’re thirty, and a parent, you long for it not to be interrupted.
When you're forty you use it to dream of all the things that you did when you were young.
When your'e fifty you use it to regret all the things you have not done.
When your'e sixty it creeps up on you when you least expect it.
When your'e seventy it fills up far too much of your day, and not enough of your nights.
When you’re eighty and beyond it gives you the perfect excuse to ignore people.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem