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Poetry by Charles Moffat
A fool's luck is a philosopher's curse If we were all fools, we'd all die old and stupid 'twould be a blessing to die young Yet wise in your ways Yet there are those old wise ones Who were once foolish in their brash youth They're losing their bearings Sinility is a killer of wisdom What is left? There is only one reason to grow old: Love To grow old with someone, A friend A partner A lover |