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Nature has no use for us old men
she plots to send us on our way
thinning and then wrinkling skin
turning hair both scant and gray

Once we've passed our genes along
the slow decline then turns much faster
men grow weak who once were strong
minor hurts turn to disaster

Arteries fill up with plaque
liver and kidneys go to pot
discs crumble in the old back
the list goes on, and it's a lot

So have your fun while you still can
Nature has no use for us old men

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Editing stage: 


14 lines now that rings a bell ???.
I liked the theme but it seemed bland.
No bladder leaks and dribbles too.
or haven't they yet afflicted you.
When teeth are loose and start to fall
You suck at your food, are not so tall.
They say everything shrinks,
yet we grow fatter.
I suppose begatting doesn't matter
I think this is a grand theme, would have loved for you to really go to town on it, Yours Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

To list all the things used to get us out of the way would have turned this into an epic lol. So I left the list line which allows readers to fill in their own blanks. Then cut the poem off at 14 lines (I know, sonnet length in a non sonnet) because nobady likes listening to old people griping about their aches and pains................stan

author comment

and expects that he will not meet the depth of his working career until his 60's, as is the case for most in his line of work. As a young boy or man, like myself, is nimble and distractable as a rabbit, an old man is steady and dedicated as a turtle. We each have different gifts to bring to the table - mine of fresh, stumbling youth and yours of content, slow burning wisdom. If you believe your pains are any worse than mine or anyone else my age, you are certainly wrong. We are plagued by indecision, confusion, rampant hormones and pressure to succeed.

As for your poem, I enjoy the title's wit the most. The rhythm is smooth and easy to digest, however the end comes too abrupt. As far as the content goes, I think you can gather my opinion - I will add that pessimism and worry only creates further stresses, so alleviate yourself of worry as much as possible and find there less to worry about. We all have our pains, though broadly different...

Welcome to the asylum lol. Yes there are many professions which take a near lifetime to get into position to really make a contribution. They usually have a lot to do with "paying your dues". Not many architects will be remembered for their being a lowly team member in designing some apartment complex or for having signed off on the structural details of a tract house. But after a while with a bit of luck, somebody will come to them and say "My requirements are thus, other than that run wild." Then starts the REAL designing.

This poem is not really meant to be taken all that seriously while at the same time I hope it Does make the point that the universe conspires against us once we reach the approx. age of 45. And I well recall my younger years and how optomism and passions boiled which Can be a good or bad thing. Now as to the end being abrupt, it was meant that way. I could have gone on for 2-3 more stanzas with little effort but I wanted the end of poem to mirror the end of life.....sudden. Even if one lives to be 100 the end is abrupt. One moment you're here, the next gone. ....Well, enough rambling lol. I appreciate your taking time to read and give this scribble some thought.................stan

author comment
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