Planned obsolescence
Bones, lenses, muscles, cells
They all go their way
Like milk left out too long
Rotting and stinking
Unfit for consumption,

So we go for check ups
And get poked, prodded, and bled
To find out that we need
More vegetables and exercise
To stave off the inevitable.

Sometimes I think about these things
When I’m running up a hill
Gassed by the incline
And suffering against gravity
That put me in the slow lane
Of prevention and futility.

So why do I exercise
If all the poking, prodding, and bleeding
Tells me that time will ultimately win?
Because its fun and when the moment comes
I’ll be in decent shape.
Vanity, the true motivator…