The older I get
The less people to call
Is it by choice
My spirit's downfall

The older I get
The less then to care
A life once so pointed
With little to share

The older I get
Beginning to end
The ones that stood by me
The ones I called friends

The older I get
Meat gone from the stew
The faces just names
Of those I once knew

The older I get
Doors lock from within
A constant reminder
The blaming now stings

The older I get
The less people to call
No sand in the hourglass
—last curtain to fall

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2014)