When I’m 103 I’ll be older than many trees.

I’ll be so frail and old that only a little breeze will make me freeze.

I’ll be burdened by the passage of time, so heavy and cruel.

As the kids run and play they’ll run by and say that I’m old school.

And there i’ll be sat in that dank nursing home as I wallow in doubt,

Thinking of things I should’ve done before my time ran out. Memories of friendships and loved ones lost to time

Getting old messes with your mind you forget how to rhyme

Yet perhaps I shouldn’t reflect and resent things I cannot repeat or repent.

I should take more time and enjoy my days.

Go outside, bathe in the sun-rays, or go out at night and stargaze.

When I’m 103.

You will not see me moping about my age, or having sad thoughts that will only plague.

Yes, you will see me merry and full of glee.

Because who knows if YOU will make it to 103.