These days I live close to the bone.
This is no mere phrase.
The face that looks at me from the mirror
Is ever older and gives a glance of skull;
The body that moves or not
Is ever thinner and juts with skeletal outline.
I could say this be not my choice,
Citing illness and age.
But we all face this end,
Whatever the appearance.
No amount of flesh or care or luck will spare us.
So I cherish my circumstance as valuable,
A visible reminder not to waste my time.
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