When the crow’s feet
Frame my chocolate sage eyes,
And youth meets a slow defeat
To Wisdom which the world despise?

Silver hairs I can dye,
Atop my ancient armor,
I am a white lie
Among the pretty and younger.

For Media produces the models
The sexy, voluptuous, the daring —
Whereas my mind slowly dawdles
To appreciate all that is dying.

So, unapologetic I present myself
To you and the world,
Enlightened I’ve felt,
Love me and love thyself.