We Grow Old/ Our Friends Grow Old Poem by Shalom Freedman

We Grow Old/ Our Friends Grow Old

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WE GROW OLD/ OUR FRIENDS GROW OLD

We grow old
Our friends grow old-
Aches and pains
And powers lost-
Going down
All going down
Suddenly or more slowly-

A world
A generation
gone-
Soon none of us will be here
And the world will go on without us.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: old,friends
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Shalom Freedman

Shalom Freedman

Troy New York
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