THE DYNAMIC LIFE CYCLE// ENDING ON DEATH'S STALLED BICYCLE// COLD AS A BURNED-OUT ICICLE
Copyright © 2018 by Marvin Cohen

As a kid, first you have to routinely grow up.
Once you're in the doldrums of that hurdle,
when your glands are still romantically fertile,
you start beginning your path to grow down
past the puddle of a middle-aged muddle
which leaves your wits zithered in befuddle.
Then having completed the standard lifetime round,
you plummet mercilessly into the death-time ground,
which plays right into the philosopher's notebook
that meager mortality gets everyone on the hook,
whether you're a legal advocate or a crook,
or a saint or a knave compiled in a library book
where dustily that's where you're referred to
as a former denizen of humanity's crowded zoo
that rises in population up from the original few.
Meanwhile down-below's population also grows
to add non-statistically to death's fallen foes
who used to be in wild life's glowing throes
and end past melancholy's posthumous woes
when life's primal thrust
went completely bust
and you too, if you must.