About-Face

Mirror, Mirror, answers I need.
What are the options I should heed?
My gray hairs are getting clearer?
Answers I need, Mirror, Mirror.

Face, I see your foes advancing
between your blacks, grays are dancing.
They’re here to stay, I guarantee;
your foes advancing, Face, I see.

Dear Face, don’t dye, give up, submit
gray hairs will never, ever quit.
As more and more blacks say good-bye
give up, submit, dear Face, don’t dye.

Glaring roots and ghastly color
texture stiff and getting duller.
Every hair strand is in cahoots 
ghastly color and glaring roots.

It comes with age, gray’s no disease;
No medicine will grant heartsease.
The mirror’s right, it is a sage;
gray’s no disease, it comes with age.


September 17, 2022
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

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