When I am old and smelly,
And my knees are very weak,
When my brain's as soft as jelly
And my trousers start to leak.
Then Death, I hope you'll gently say
(As gently as a friend),
Let's close those curtains now. The day,
Like all days, has to end
If you've any comments on this poem, Wayne Carvosso would be pleased to hear from you.