In Aqueous Humors

In aqueous humors and colloidal suspensions, We age like the flower, with rare substitutions. Our verbs are all parried, in long past declensions; Our muscles deranged, with minute lax dilutions. Our memories befuddled, like dropped cauliflower, Our bodies they sag, though well-aimed at the ground. Our once-enigmatic expressions, just dour; If we try to wear makeup, we look like a clown. Life's no longer the party, that we can anticipate; Exhaustion's our best friend, who always arrives. To be fully honest, all our habits are antiquate And it takes all our energy just to survive.