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