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Created on: March 10, 2010 Last Updated: March 11, 2010
In fifty years we will be nothing more than a mass of wrinkled weathered skin and fragile bones
Our memories and stories of this time in our lives will be so skewed and warped by time
It won't really matter what we did because nostalgia will make it into the greatest time of our lives
Far past youth, our legacy will remain in what we physically created, not the fish stories we tell our friends
At that point in time the only people that will matter are those with unwavering loyalty and direct blood relations
The face on the pillow next to you will be your only constant companion
If you can look over at them and tell them with your eyes that even after all these year you still love them, that is fulfillment.
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Poetry: Growing old
steps much slower than before
as time creeps up upon my door
trying to sing a happy song
wondering where time went wrong
pulling
by Josh Andrews
In fifty years we will be nothing more than a mass of wrinkled weathered skin and fragile bones
Our memories and stories
COULD IT BE I’M GETTING OLD
Age is a thing we all must face;
We’ll all grow old some day
unless, of course,
I gaze at my bathroom mirror,
And looking back at me,
Are the telltale signs of wrinkles,
And gray hair their company.
My knees
Thoughts to Ponder
Who am I when...
my feet won't keep time with the music,
the numbers don't add up,
people don't return my
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