Your face is webbed with the wisdom of years,
Mapping many joys and many fears.

Your body scantly clad in skin,
Shrunk around your bony frame.

Some revere you, others would burn you.
Hubble, bubble, toil and trouble,
Your senses fade and your chin's got stubble!

Wise woman, granny, batty old hag,
Grumpy old codger, coffin dodger.
From maid to madonna to rattling husk.

It comes to us all, so what shall we do?
Wear purple and red, and run amok?
Been there, done that, don't give a fuck!

Rage against the dying light?
But I've been raging all my life!

So give me my bus pass and my talking book,
But driver please don't stop your bus,
'Cos I'm not going to the terminus!