Losing the Race

I once was young and brave and bold. I now am frightened, shy and old. It sneaked upon me suddenly. I though it would take a while, And kept on living with a smile. Old age could not catch up with me. All signs of it I would not see. Growing old was simply not my style. Until noticing a single white hair growing in my tresses so dark brown. Swiftly plucking it, a dozen grew in its place. as age winked its drooping eye. 4/2017