We live and eventually we die, held pridoners to ourselves and our bodies.
Such bitter truths, they bound, they cage
Imprisoned then by natural age
As fleshy skin becomes the cell
That age bestows, we know too well
As bones so weaken, eyesight fades
Our prison is, our bodies, made
That lets us not again be young
As we fall closer, to all days done
Copyright © 2009 Michael Degenhardt
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