The beauty shall cease to woo,
As the strength fades as hues
This is a saying, so true
Not some gimmick out of the blues
Winding stairs, so long
Bones again, not strong
Black hair to soft turns grey
White teeth to gums, give way
Youth bloom, soon breaks
And no man to say nay,
It is called, Old age.
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 12:53 PM UTC
The beauty shall cease to woo,
As the strength fades as hues
This is a saying, so true
Not some gimmick out of the blues
Winding stairs, so long
Bones again, not strong
Black hair to soft turns grey
White teeth to gums, give way
Youth bloom, soon breaks
And no man to say nay,
It is called, Old age.
Request permission to use this poem