Some Brows are crowned with pensive lines
With Coffins born in the skull filled grave
But do not fear your summits range
For The Second Act is best played sublime
And athletes may sink where beauty rests
As youths a drug that wears more thinner
Yet age is a wine not fit for beginners
Tastes textures swell as wisdom ferments
And Time imbibes our lives with dread
Instead of which it’s meant to teach
To live with love in days of peace
And cease our path on gold we tread
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