Age
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.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem