Poem By William Otto

Tempis fugit, the old man said,
As he pillowed his weary head.
I'm just not what I used to be,
Time, at last, has caught up with me.
That lively gait, so full of pep,
Is now a slower, faltering step.
Eyes that once were so very good,
Now see things through a misty hood.
Fingers once sensitive, now fumble around,
Allowing things to tumble down.
In each life there comes a day,
When the aging process has it's way.
The years indeed, have taken their toll,
What a tragedy it is, for us who grow old.

Comments about Aging

Good thing that we have grown old and live to tell the tale. Very good poem.

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Other poems of WILLIAM OTTO

The Open Sea

How swiftly flows the river,
As it hastens to be free,
Away from land's binding fetters,
En route to the open sea.


The sun was rising above the trees,
Casting shadows on the lake,
Birds were chirping their morning songs,
Bidding the world to awake.