So Much Better than the Alternative


I know I’m rough around the edges, what with age and wear and rust,

But I like the character antiquity imparts; it must

Seem strange to you who have such beauty, youth and grace, you smooth of skin,

Bright of eyes and freshly laundered whippersnappers–my sole sin,

If sin I have, is being ancient and well-lived and storied; still,

I think your sympathies will shift as you get older. And you will.

If you don’t, rough luck, poor suckers, and I pity you the trust

You had in your youth and beauty, come the day you too will rust.

Better to have aged and crumbled, to have faltered, dim and grey,

Than to croak and to have tumbled. ‘Old’ beats ‘finished’, I would

6 thoughts on “So Much Better than the Alternative

  1. Absolutely. And, “yes”. You could even add in a “You betcha, sister!”

    My view is quite simple. I’ve earned every single dent and ding, every wrinkle and gray hair. There are memories in them thar imperfections. I’d rather enjoy the memories than erase them with science. šŸ˜‰

    • Honestly, my ‘character’ parts are among my favorite features nowadays (with a few small but stellar exceptions–Hot Flashes, this means *YOU*). I do think I’m improving as I go along.

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