Looking at the mirror
I was shocked
To find a grey hair
(Amidst my beloved black ones)
The hidden scoundrel
Stealthily growing
Since, God knows when
Should I pluck it out
Root, stock and barrel?
But what about the ten
That will grow
At its funeral
And stay behind
Seeking venegeance?
It is better
To paint it over
But I have heard
'Tis bad for kidneys
And what if
The paint is not water-proof
It will leave me
Exposed
On a rainy day.
I should just ignore it
Pretend
It is not mine
But what if
It is contagious
And it will
Certainly grow
Longer and longer
Coiling all around me
Like a python.
No. No !
All that won't do
I should simply agree
'I am a greying old man'
(And thank God
I am not bald.)
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