The Aging Curse

It appears to be the most
popular drop-in centre in the
community, its doors swinging
wide open from dawn to dusk,
admitting an unending flow of the
halt and the hobbled the to-be-sure
young, but mostly elderly
pensioners, wheelchair-ensconced,
or hobbling on canes, or gently
pushing forward walking aids,
their lined, pale faces testament
to the concluding years of their
lives, sensory abilities receding, 
their ample girths a wild explosion 
of amazing dimension. Slowly at
first, then accelerating in numbers
they toddle through the corridors,
find the examining room appropriate
to their maladies, yet search in
vain for the one so popular in
legend claiming the miracle of
a cure for the aging curse.