5.1 - Old age
There's milk in your eyes,
But no chalk in your bones.
From hellos to goodbyes,
Your meetings are phones.
Dances and walks
Belong to the past.
Your time is a crime.
No memories last.
Give me a hand
With this problem I have:
Despite all the pain,
Why do you still laugh?
Red grapes bleed on cement
When the green bottle shatters.
Don't leave grief to lament.
Taste and colour's what matters.
The smell of the smashes,
The smile on the lip.
The road leads to ashes.
The fun is the trip.