Wednesday, January 23, 2013

The Coming Of Gray

Regarding a star's twinkle
A child expresses wonder
With age another wrinkle
And making one more blunder.

For me the telltale sign's the beard.
While not especially vain 
Its spread conveys what I feared
The displeasure of joint pain.

While as my pace has slowed down
My rhymes remain from hunger
The smile gives way to the frown
Wishing that I were younger. 

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