Look in the mirror,
What do you see?
Bags 'n folds
Grey,
your getting old
Many summers past
Soon,
Death will come to
Moaning
Groaning
Creaking
Crawling
Missing your days of youth
Forsaking what you gained
You cannot run
cannot defy
So why do you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem