Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Old

I look in a mirror and I see,
A familiar face looking back at me,
The features old, the wrinkles new,
The eyes are gray what once were blue.

I see a pimple on my nose,
Yesterday it was still unborn,
But it's only fair, I suppose,
Seeing as yesterday is gone.

Thoughts are private till they're voiced,
Some say words can lie,
I think words are simply noise,
And it's men not sounds that lie.

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