With change of season
He too changes for good reason
Time over but he still sees a chance
Young girls get his furtive glance.
To make up for what his hairs lack
They aren’t too many a few at the back
Those tufts he keeps in good black shine
His mind doesn’t recede with receding hairline.
What if his skin has shrunk a little bit
His eyes still roll they hanker to meet
Dark ocean eyes with a glowing skin
Rekindles his fire lying deep within.
He holds onto the spark of youthful craze
Doesn’t seek woman close to his age
It’s the lesser ones that get him on hook
Make him seek ways for a greener look.
His time is never over this pathetic old clown
His days may be up but he is not down
Still dreaming of a reinvented career
His mind goes hunting wild deer.