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Solomon Machardson

Age is like a serpent that disables you
By stinging you in the heart!
It is like a weed which sucks out
The nourishment meant for plants.
Age is about days gone by,
Days that will never return,
Much as we try to recall them
In our memory and dreams.
Age is about wills and executors
And deaths, coffins and tributes
And graves, worms  and epitaphs
And widows, widowers and orphans

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