The crime is not being old
But looking your age

Chances not given
Doors closed
Upon sight

My gray helmet
Announcing to all
My path

My experience
My education
My success
Dwindle down
To a number
Of years

I am surprised
In myself
As I reach for the hair color
To wash away
All I have worked for

I look in the mirror
I smile
I am still me.

Connie Joyce

Related Posts

tree moss
The Poetry of the People
Homosexuality as Taboo in the 21st Century
Ganesh Regmi’s list of Customs and Taboos
Is Monogamy a Social Construct?

Leave a Reply