Supposition on Growing Old-a poem

Sometimes as I sit bored, doing nothing
I start feeling like I’m extremely old.
Perhaps it’s just depression, but it gets me thinking:
“What will I be like when I’m thirty?”

This, therefore is my supposition on growing old.
I suppose my future will hold many things:
Marriage, employment, dreams, and aspirations.
There will also be sadness, nightmares, and crushed hope.

But I also suppose life is not something we control.
There could also be divorce and restraining orders,
And these kind of things could seriously change me.
So I ask you to think carefully about all you could be and do.

There could also be premature death,
That would rob my future of all possibilities.
But I know that when I die,
I will go to eternal rest when it’s my time.