We are all falling,
Life is a drop towards ending,
You dear reader,
And I,
And we can no more delay or adjust the
Speed of our descent
Than flap our arms right now
And take flight towards the clouds,

And though we may aspire to the heavens
The only route out of life
Is down,
Drawn by that terrifying gravity
That draws us ever faster
As the years pass,
Accelerating steadily through childhood
Adolescence and young adulthood,

Streaking past the unknown
Mid point of our lives
But suddenly aware we have less to go
Than we can know and less to get
Than we already had,
And that as we hurtle out of middle age
Puts a scale to our brief existence,
And a reasonable sight of our end,

But these calculations are of no use,
As our muscles sag and our hair thins,
Skin wrinkled and transluscent,
Eyesight dimmed,
Because we are tripped
By illness or literally in a fall
And thus we reach beginning of the final bend,
Our flailing stops

As we reach our journey's end