A poem I wrote a few years back that is appropriate to this discussion:
Tick, Tick, Tick
The ticking of the clock
Beating silently, like my heart
Reminds me of the time.
Oh dear, what a shock
To see those wrinkles
Pop out from the mirror
Winking at me with impunity
Oh dear, those crinkles
Will not settle at that
But poke me within until I ache
From arthritis and the like.
Oh dear, growing fat
No, no, no that cannot be -
You see I cannot bend or stretch
But lift a finger to command
Oh dear, I did not see
That tomorrow is my birthday
Another year gone by
The ticking of the clock
Oh dear, to stop that day
And live forever young
Yet it cannot be
For others will continue their march
Oh dear, I cannot be that wrong
To want to stop the ticking of the clock.
(written in 2010)