Most people may not believe when I say
That I want to grow old with hair of silvery gray.
Wrinkles may not make me look fair
But that’s something I really don’t care.
I see wrinkles as proof of the life I’ve lived and the struggles I’ve overcome
Proof I did my best, I didn’t give up, didn’t succumb.
My wrinkly skin would serve as maps of my adventures
And perhaps, as well as my misadventures.
Oh to be old with hair of silvery gray,
To reach that age, is what I pray.
I used to see colors of different hues
Then I only saw all blues
Clouds once white now heavy gray
I think I’ll sulk here and stay
Love once pure, now it’s stained
Everything lost, nothing gained
Will you be there to stand by me, will you stay?
When I become annoying and noisy,
Will you understand even when I can be a bit bossy?
When my hands have seen better days,
Will you still hold them anyway?
If my memory fades and I often forget,
Will you tell me our story so I may remember it?
When all else fails, when everything breaks,
Will you show our love is true and not one to fake?
Unexpectedly it happened
And I seized the moment
He held my hand in more ways than one
He always made me feel special
Where one broke me, but made me strong
He always took care of me
Though I do wish to be strong, I too want to be treated like a fragile china
Thankful I am to both men
They don’t know how much they’ve changed me
But when the skies grow dark
I know who makes me happiest the most
eyes of grey tear me apart
the longingness, the emptiness, the mischievous smile
behind those eyes of yours
crippling my very soul to the brink of extinction
what do those eyes of yours say?
I couldn’t quite figure out.
i’m falling into the void, at a loss….
…for words are nothing compared to those eyes
it sees eternity, an endless serenity
my chaotic mind twitches at the sight of it
oh! how deep and dark are those grey eyes
that hold me, that confuses me
yet still I can’t help but be drawn to its magic
it’s power over me is strong
and I still can’t unerstand what they might
or would ever mean as they stare back into
these brown eyes of mine
what do they see?
I can’t help but wonder……
blue like the deepest sea
turned gray because of dirt or ash
used to its fullest potential
until its breaking point
broken and beaten
torn and sewed back together again
dust it off, wash it out
the color quickly fading
thrown out when no longer useful
others are kept as priced possessions
life can be like a blue jeans
it’s up to you what you’ll do
once it turns to gray
I want to be wiser when I grow old
The chapters of my life, I will have told
I don’t want to be young forever, what good will that be?
To never mature and learn and be free?
No, that’s not what I want, that’s not what I plan
I’ll do my best to grow old, I know I can
Oh to be old, with wrinkles and gray hair
I couldn’t think of what would look more fair
To be able to reach the age of seventy
That would be a gift of plenty
I want to be like Betty White
Who grows old gracefully, such a shinning light