An old man frollicking in the leaves of Autumn
Immersed in what experience has taught Him
To enjoy life before it passes Him by
80 years gone in the blink of an eye
We look behind us and see our youth
Then look in the mirror and see the truth
We ran,We jumped,We skipped,We played
Now all that\'s left is to live out Our days
The current generation will soon be where We are
The doors of perception,whereas once left ajar
Will slowly close as They\'ll rapidly age
Though the book may be different,They\'ll read the same page
The words not as clear,the thoughts as concise
Now displeased with what used to suffice
Our minds not as sharp,our strides not as long
Forgetting the lyrics to a once well known song
Plans that were once guaranteed to be kept
Are now those uncertain,even those not made yet
If pearls,indeed,do come before swine
Tell Me why My kindness is a waste of Your time
Lines that aren\'t relevant to what came before
Are written,nonetheless,to imply so much more
An all too true statement regarded as fact
Will soon be disproven in a manner exact
And while the recent words chosen may appear off topic
I implore You not to be so damn myopic
Though My thoughts may appear to have split into two
Be assured They\'re as comparable as I am to You
Half of one poem and that of the other
Like old age supplying youth with it\'s cover
Both sides of one coin coming up heads
From the day of conception til the day We are dead