In all mirrors now I am aging.
The ashy strands appear at a greater rate.
The hands of father time touching me.
An older building standing but showing wear.
Occasionally will feel a young man's burst.
Mind, body still good as the seasons change.
Reality, my Springer Spaniel days are in the past.
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Author:
Sandbone18 (
Offline) - Published: March 21st, 2018 14:51
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 11
- User favorite of this poem: Dee♥️.
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