Progression

Children disappear
Dust settles on furniture
House plants dry
Parents wither and fall off trees like old fruit
Marriages break
Hearts age, astonishingly fast and then slow
Dishes are washed and kept away
Wardrobes fill up with unwearable clothes
Adult coloring books, wait
Love is, forgotten
Diseases come, and go, but not totally
A bit of us dies, everyday
Little bit, but yes
We get new bodies every seven years, you know, albeit our loss be undeniable
What is lost, is never found again
Grass looks lush, only on the other side
Mornings rise, we run incessantly
Hoping that we will forget our morbid truths
But we can't, we're built to persist, blindly
Therefore, everything else disintegrates
Only we stay
Then, one day, without whine or warning
We die, forever and for good.