Here I sit, alone and weary,
Life encased in death contrary,
Pondering in a weakly way
Steps that led me to this day.
More than 12, if truth be told,
And many dreams bought & sold:
To not grow old! No final breath
Struggling 'gainst encroaching death.
A wealth of years would be mine,
Untouched by vagaries of time.
And yet I grow old, I grow old
Seeing dross where once was gold.
For it seems my too-human mind
No paradise in flesh can find
And a forever of tomorrows
Just a breeding ground of sorrows.
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