Afraid of Growing Old
I see the silver in my hair,
A quiet whisper of despair.
The mirror shows a shifting face,
As time begins to leave its trace.
The lines that gather ‘round my eyes
Feel like the truth I can’t disguise.
Each birthday candle softly glows,
Another year the river flows.
I fear the slowing of my stride,
The fading strength I used to hide.
Yet still my heart beats brave and bold—
Afraid, but learning to grow old.
M