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→A poem by Transhuman Tees
It's a natural process,
They say getting old
As if it is something
Either noble or bold
When your hip is stiff
You need a cane to walk
Your ears are now useless
Can't hear anyone talk
Tell me a reason
And tell me why
When I think of that coming
That I shouldn't cry
Who wants that for themselves?
Who wants that for others?
Your parents
Your children
Your sisters
Your brothers
They say I fear death
But that is a lie
I don't want to get old
If you do, tell me why.
[[category:Art]]
