Poem

I'm old my son, I've lived my life.

I have had my time.

The winter cuts me like a knife,

when summer was once mine.

My world is gone,yours took its place.

My youth has since passed by.

I look long at my wrinkled face,

and know that next am I.

The time I have is not much left.

So, soon I must abide

the daemon responsible for the theft

of life before I've died.

So, in parting my son, let me say,

I have this one last gift to give.....

Don't let time take life away,

before you really live.

Was browsing on the web, this very poem caught my attention. I think its beautiful.
It was taken from a forum by Dances with Chainsaws, 04-16-2003, 02:31 PM