WHEN I AM OLD (poem for #Audiomo Day 9

When I am old

When I am old the lines will show,
the words perhaps no longer flow. 
The eyes will set and surely droop
while underneath the bones will stoop.
Across the brow may stretch a crease,
a surface etched before deceased.
When I am old the days I rue
have slipped away and didn’t accrue.
The fire records and cannot lie,
the marks shine through and never die.
When I am old there’ll be no song, 
times replaying the memory long.
When I am old I’ll stop all this verse
cause I shall know it’s worse and worse

#AudioMo