Do not hate your age
Or the fine lines that plague
Your face.
They are marks of wisdom,
Worn by years of sun and stress.
You dreamed of the future when
You were younger,
The world you would create.
Now, you fear the future
The final punctuation at the end
Of your story.
Do not fear death
Though it comes more soon each day.
Progress is a thing borne from
The passing of time
And would never have come if
Years had not gone.
When the light leaves your eyes
And the breathe is gone from your chest
Know that Death has not won.
You are written into books of history;
Trails of papers, poems, memoirs and
Memories you leave behind.
And these things will keep you
Forever alive.