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The Season of Man (standard:poetry, 71 words)
Author: eddiesoloAdded: Feb 04 2004Views/Reads: 1761/0Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A short poem.


Birth to twenty is fresh like spring. 

Pimples blossom like Bluebells, Oh we do laugh and sing. 

Twenty to forty is warm like a summer. 

Long days and nights cuddling up with a lover. 

Forty to sixty the autumn years are here. 

Grandparents we become and we all shed a tear. 

Sixty to eighty the winter has arrived. 

Life is nearly over but boy what a ride! 


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