My vanity

When you see the grey in my hair
will you remember the black that was there?
Or will you forget and just see grey
that forms at the roots on everyday?

I used to wear it long and flowing
and preen about how it was growing.
I used a hair brush and counted the strokes,
but that's a waste of time for older folks.

Vanity's been replaced by common sense
although I say in my defense
that if I could I'd still like to see
that shiny lustre of ebony.

Beauty is burdensome anyway
and eventually I'll accept being grey.
But not just yet, maybe next year.
Alas by then more grey will appear.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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