Would I not see if my eyes were not open?
Have I not the grace and favour of an open mind?
That I would be cursed by such is a fallacy,
To be enshrined with such perception is truly a gift.
Yet do you not see the brow so furrowed?
The golden hair now lost to powder grey?
What has this mind with all it's questions brought
If not a troubled weary self that raises such worries?.
I may tell you this and I have reason not to lie
The furrowed brow a map of life's endeavours,
The powder grey a trophy borne from each survival,
The questions sought through strong and active mind.
I am not so weary that I would turn my back on life,
For me the spoils of age hold no regrets,
Only thoughts of loved ones taken that much sooner,
As I live I see the vanity such pity would possess.
Have I not the grace and favour of an open mind?
That I would be cursed by such is a fallacy,
To be enshrined with such perception is truly a gift.
Yet do you not see the brow so furrowed?
The golden hair now lost to powder grey?
What has this mind with all it's questions brought
If not a troubled weary self that raises such worries?.
I may tell you this and I have reason not to lie
The furrowed brow a map of life's endeavours,
The powder grey a trophy borne from each survival,
The questions sought through strong and active mind.
I am not so weary that I would turn my back on life,
For me the spoils of age hold no regrets,
Only thoughts of loved ones taken that much sooner,
As I live I see the vanity such pity would possess.
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