Gray Poem by Victoria Horn

I glance into the mirror to find my hair turning gray. Looking at the clock it says the same time it does everyday. It does not tell me the years but yet my hair does. Where has my youth clock gone? I want to believe it has cheated me, taken away my firm golden skin, my long, flowing, curly hair, my rested eyes, wrinkle -free hands. Then I remember there is a reason for my non shimmering hair. I have earned it. I realize it is genetics that give young ladies their glow, but time makes them beautiful. This hair holds stories and events, theirs hold childlike mistakes and hair products. I have made it to the age where this gray hair is almost a sign of youth. I know i am lucky to be alive, to have made it to this age. I am lucky to have my gray hair.