The Gray
When I got my first gray hair, I shrieked to the sky
Ran to the store and got some hair dye
But as time went by, I pondered my face
Why do I deny what's taking place
I've learned that I earned each hair that is there
If it means that i'm old then who really cares
All the worries and stress that life threw my way
I took head on and the dust blew my way
Changing to gray means I won the day
Each one is a medal i'm proud to display.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
