by Madison Lang

Created on: June 16, 2008

Creak, pop, snap.
With each step
I hear
a symphony of sounds
I never knew
that growing old
would be this way
that a twisted ankle
in my youth
would lead to such
immense turmoil
at 65.

That broken arm
from carefree
tree climbing days
aches constantly
spring and fall-
with their stormy weather
hurt the most.

Tylenol, advil, aspirin
Cant stop the hurt
that burrows deep inside
the wrinkles, and the lines.

The fear eats at me
like a cancer.
Gnawing, chewing me up
and spitting me out,
And I know... one day
I wont be able to move
at all.

Each movement, each breath
will ache in ways the young
can't imagine, won't believe.
As i pray for a way to end
the snakes venom coursing
burning up inside me,
the curse that won't abide me
pain.

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