Don't Argue With The Inevitable

My knees felt her, while walking down the stairs, sometimes this life, just doesn't seem fair, my faded brown eyes, and thinning grey hair, the way I sighed, sitting down, in my rocking chair, wrinkles surprising me, coming out of nowhere, during breakfast, as I recited my morning prayer, aging hands folded, beneath my chin hairs, I ask him, laying my soul bare, "God, who have I become?" I feel double dared, It's just as I had feared, I catch my mother's reflection, while walking, past the mirror.