Old people die hard

Old people die hard.
They struggle in fading light, 
and never give up.
The older they are the harder they fight.
An old man, you would think,
with fractured hip and sacral sore- 
white bone shining-wouldn’t take much more.
Or a girl aged ninety, frail,
singing rhymes, won’t eat a thing, 
would be searching for her way out.
You would be wrong. 
They hang on, raging. Raging.
Its the young who go fast. 
Wild ones standing tall,
brave ones, angry one, straight players.
The stronger they are the faster they fall.


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