When offered a seat on a bus or train
I never demur, I never decline
I gracefully accept, and gently recline..
Ah, what bliss it is, to put up one’s feet
Up in the air, though not on the seat
Age has its merits,
Silver locks have their charm
to request for help
never does any harm.
On metros and trains
people jump up and smile
their problems forgotten
like the luggage in a pile
they want to offer aid
they feel I need to sit
as through the crowds I wade
frail looking but fit
so do not paint your locks
let the whiteness blind
for the colour often tends
to make the people kind
My white hair has thus helped me
Forget my aches and pains
For often it has offered
Less problems and more gains.