I have no qualms about getting old by the day, I hope it makes me wiser and better in a way. Those grey strands protruding from my head, Why do they peek as if they've something to say? I promise to be more careful of what I eat, I want to be fit as a fiddle and less to weigh. I'll shape my beard to the latest of trends, But I won't dye my hair and cover every gray. I wanna age gracefully without a stick, Depending less and keeping troubles at bay. Days turn into weeks and weeks into months, The year runs hurriedly and doesn't ever stay. The roads of life have never been constant, Age is just a number, the wise men say. Welcome to the day 27 of #YoPoDiMo or the YourQuote Poetry Diversity Month i.e. September. Today, I'm once again giving you a topic. Write a #freeverse on #gettingold. #gettingoldpoem #soultrigger #yqsayyed #yqspecial #YourQuoteAndMine Collaborating with YourQuote Baba
