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Youth For The Asking
It's typical really and just our luck,
The first frost's in the garden, blown roses to pluck.
Where we should find comfort in the heat of the past,
Greying untroubled by hormones at last.
But the men in white coats had a treat for us all,
Turgid new tortures, tumescence on call.
With Viagra, Cialis, Levitra and Co.
The pipe and the slippers may just have to go.
While the cold men of science and profit are basking,
We all form queues, for youth, there for the asking.
While mutton marches lamblike with uplifted face,
To the slaughter of those who grow old without grace.
