OLD AGE IS A CRIME

Old Age is Not a Crime

In a world of fleeting youth,

Where time flows like a restless stream,

The beauty of life's gentle truth

Is often lost in a wistful dream.

But listen now, to wisdom's call,

For old age is not a crime,

It’s the richest season of them all,

A time of rhythm, of reason, of rhyme.

In the dawn of life's sweet morning,

With laughter fresh and hearts so free,

We danced beneath the sky's adorning,

In the golden sun's bright sea.

Our hearts were wild, our spirits bold,

We raced through days without a care,

For we were young and full of gold,

With dreams as light as the summer air.

Yet as the sun begins to wane,

And shadows stretch across the land,

The fire of youth may start to wane,

But life’s true beauty is at hand.

Old age, a treasure trove of grace,

With lines etched deep from years gone by,

Each wrinkle tells of a life’s embrace,

A story of joy, a tear, a sigh.

For wisdom grows where youth once played,

A tapestry of lessons learned,

In quiet glens where shadows fade,

We find the peace for which we yearned.

Oh, do not scorn the silver hair,

The gentle stoop, the slower pace,

For in those eyes, a world so rare,

A depth of love, a wealth of grace.

The hands that tremble, once were strong,

They built the world in which we thrive,

Their voices joined in countless songs,

Their spirits kept our dreams alive.

In the twilight’s softest glow,

There’s a warmth that’s pure and true,

For old age brings a gentle flow,

A chance to see life’s broader view.

Do not rush to chase the past,

For every age has its own time,

And in the end, we find at last,

That old age is not a crime.

It’s the gentle end to a symphony,

A final note in a song well sung,

A life of rich and full harmony,

A soul where dreams forever hung.

So celebrate each silver thread,

Each step that’s slow, each careful thought,

For in those years, a life is led,

With lessons earned and battles fought.

In the autumn leaves that fall,

There’s a beauty, rare and sweet,

A reminder that through it all,

Life’s circle is complete.

Old age is not a burdened fate,

But a crown of years well spent,

A doorway to a higher state,

A time of peace, of calm, content.

For every year is but a page,

In a book of endless lore,

And as we turn each one with age,

We find new joys to explore.

The laughter lines, the knowing smiles,

The hands that clasp in gentle care,

They speak of journeys, countless miles,

Of lives entwined, a love laid bare.

Oh, cherish every silver strand,

Every moment’s quiet grace,

For in the end, we understand,

Life’s beauty is not in the race.

But in the pause, the gentle breath,

The memories that softly gleam,

In the stories shared till death,

In the fulfillment of each dream.

So do not fear the coming years,

For they are rich and full of light,

They hold the laughter, hold the tears,

And bring a wisdom, pure and bright.

Old age is not a time to mourn,

But a chapter rich and grand,

A life of beauty, fully worn,

A touch of heaven’s hand.

Embrace the twilight, soft and warm,

With a heart that’s full of cheer,

For in each wrinkle, in each form,

There’s a life that’s held so dear.

Old age is not a crime, dear friend,

But a gift of life’s sweet grace,

A journey that we all must end,

With a smile upon our face.

So let us honor every year,

And see the beauty time bestows,

For in the end, it’s crystal clear,

Old age is where true wisdom grows.

References

Prof. Wole Soyinka

Dr. Ngozi Okonjo Iweala

Mr. Wale Ojo

Mrs. Joke Silver Jacobs

Pa. Olu Jacobs