ODE TO THE TWENTIETH CENTURY

She had the face she showed the world--in a glance,
All smiles, unaffected by circumstance.
She had the face she showed her brother and her son,
Whose condescension of her weighed a ton.
She had the face she showed her grandchildren, whom she loved so dear.
That face often clouded with tears as she saw them--brave, no fear.
For life to them was a shapeless, unborn dream,
An exciting, curious adventure--a carousel theme.
Finally she had the face she showed herself, alone.
When she gazed at the mirror wond'ring where her life had gone.
That face was etched with wrinkles, framed with gray.
Eyes filled with fear and sorrow stared back as if to say;
Life is filled with ironies that--if known--
Would make the bravest heart cry "Foul, leave me alone.
Leave me to die as in ages past from whooping cough or flu.
Tis far preferable to the phrase, 'You're Too old; we don't need you'."