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.