Getting Old
         
             Villanelle Poem
 

Getting old has no appeal.

We are slowly dying every day;

the subtle aging a raw deal.
 

The corrosion makes us reel,

when youth disappears in a fray.

Getting old has no appeal.
 

Our minds and our bodies, once steel,

descend and collapse in dismay;

the subtle aging a raw deal.
 

Some seniors’ minds turn like a wheel;

but their bones are stiff as clay.

Getting old has no appeal.
 

Some cannot express how they feel

while others kneel and pray;

the subtle aging a raw deal.
 

Youth potions sold on e-bay

cannot conceal our mortal decay.

Getting old has no appeal;

the subtle aging a raw deal.