Looking in the mirror and what do I see?
Whose is this face staring back at me?
Familiar in outline, but foreign in detail
Craggy, careworn features all over prevail

But who is he?

Is this me?

Inside, he feels the same small boy
Curious, quick, and ruddy of mind
Rich inside life bringing joy
But somewhere, having lost track of time

The visage reflected, as in a mirror darkly
Yet somehow still so very, very starkly

Shows one thing above all others:

The face is

Old