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How will my life end up?
I might never know love
Never have a family
To grow old along with
Never have that partner
To follow into the shadows.

I'll just age and begin
To malfunction alone
While people I know start
To die ahead of me
Bringing me constant grief
To the very end.

Those who are attractive
And healthy go on to play
The living game, the way
It has been scripted over
Millions of years by
Blind nature.

It feels right.
The rest of us are the
Dead end branches that get
Pruned and seem doomed
To end up the scaffolding
For new life's romances.