General Chat

I looked at my hands
and remembered back
they where capable then
there was nothing too lack

When did they get lined
when did I grow old
surely somebody should have said
shouldn't I have been told,

I still feel so young
I can dance the night away
but I look at my hands
and know they need oil of Ulay

I'm not ready to grow old
my time is still not past
Please tell me the curling
will not ever last

But I look at my hands
and see the lines there
and remember my youth
holding them was a dare

But I'm not ready to be old
I don't want to be lined
I hate the fact that life
is going to be defined

Is the age of my hands telling
shall I wear gloves
What shall I tell them
the young of my loves.

should I bow out graceful
now I have found creases
or shall I hold my head high
and defy the fall of pieces.

I will leave with rhyme and reason
to choose what I do
what will you choose
when it happens to you,