Long ago when I was young,
There was a play that to me sung,
A tale of one both royal and old,
We meet him weak, though he was bold,
A King with daughters, one, two, three,
While I have sons this spoke to me,
For how we age and slow our life,
Is seldom smooth, but full of strife,
Our bodies and more so our minds,
Doth vary so, we are all kinds,
But when the years do multiply,
Everyone from fair does soon decline,
We strive to keep some bits of self,
While seeking help from pharmacy shelf,
A cane, a walker, wheelchair too,
Mobility affects much more than few,
For Lear the King does what he can,
But he's an elder every man,
And while I'm just now six and sixty,
The path ahead is steep and tricky,
Come join us for this truthful play,
We all are Lear, some way, some day.