With It, comes responsibility,
It becomes your way of life.
It throws you in the mix,
Of trouble and of strife.

It works it’s way up slowly,
Sometimes hiding away,
Sometimes it bypasses,
And then comes back another day.

We never asked for It,
Although some could never wait,
It never books an appointment,
Nor sets a certain date.

Triggered by a tragedy,
Brought on by old age.
It’s goes in to the diaries,
On a latter page.

What is It?
Is it for everyone?
Only if you want It.
Once It has begun.

It sounds pretty awesome,
Kind of scary too,
How will I understand It?
Just what should I do.

Relax, sit back, and welcome It,
It will bring about security.
Just wait for It to arrive,
This thing called adult maturity.