We trade our youth for wisdom,

Our smooth skin for knowledge,

Bright-eyed optimism for knowing what's to come.

A natural exchange,

Immortal youth is only a fantasy,

A dream often yearned for, but never reached.

A sacrifice no one can escape,

The human condition demands it.

Submit, or die.

And yet,

There is whimsy wrinkled in smile lines,

Child-like wonder held in liver-spotted hands,

And joyus laughter singing through dentures.

It seems like the fantastical myth is a lie,

The fountain of youth is but water from the tap,

and anyone can deny this sacrifice with a smile.

Those who choose youth just keep it tucked away,

Behind the canes and hearing aids,

Perhaps we are all young at heart.