You inevitable menacing eventuality

You irreversible fading of faculty

Invisibly existing from inception

Locked within the crate of infancy

Overridden- terrified by juvenile

But courageously storming at the climax


You resolutely descend at retirement

Pushing to the loathsome derailment

Pretty creatures to deterioration

Your revolting withered achievement

Reveal thy alteration proof

Oh! You formidable lethal unguis


Power beyond the competence of wits

You slight the concealing mask to fix

And defeat the slowing ploy with time

Your dentine tearing all resistant tricks

To wreck the fabric of alluring design

To devour till one’s frail and gaunt


You who strike till one’s totally beaten

You who bite till one’s wholly eaten

Mock and dare me your grip to resist

For each attempt your fang to deepen

Follow the hollow to the depth within

Keep toiling till the entirety is damned.

© Florence Ezekafor

We watch ourselves grow older each day, we watch the wrinkles appear at places we don’t want them to. We watch our skins slack and dull off. We try our best to preserve the youth we want – because actually before the people of this world youth is more desirable and we really want our physical appearance to please them.

When we take drastic measure to limit the ageing process, there is always the unfailing point when ageing turns defiant and intractable – that’s exactly the time it hits hard.

Do this

Good health is important for graceful ageing. Looking good at old age is about taking good care of your health right from young age

Keep fit, take care of your health, stay happy and whatever you o, not war against the aging process – it will win eventually. Welcome it, embrace it. Be happy with it.

Love people around you, love yourself.

Don’t be frustrated by anything.

Wishing you all graceful ageing.

Stay cheerful❤

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  1. Aging is so inevitable😁 this is a beautiful poem. I remember when I was a minor I couldn’t wait to be 18. 😂 but the responsibility of being an adult is so much

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  2. Your poem reminds me of the poem “The Panic of Growing Older” by Lenrie Peters. Life is an irony though. When a child is born, he is naturally expected to grow. With each passing day, he advances in age and frame. However, as he advances in age, he begins to ‘age’. All of a sudden, it dawns on him that his clock is fast-ticking and then begins to struggle with time. But alas, all he can do is to live well and live right. In the words of Achebe, “the man who has never submitted to anything will eventually submit to his burial mat” .

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