The face I see
In the morning mirror
Is of my father.
I imperiously ignore him
And shave a smooth face
Half my age.
Nature is kind to us old
We are unable to see how aged we are
As the outside doesn't look
Like the inside.
But if you tell me I look forty-five
You are patronizing me.
And I will think you are anti-old
But being wise I will not say so
Just disinherit you...punk.
