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Age with Grace
The sun is setting on youth,
the mellowing of autumn has set in,
as the fresh dewiness of spring fades;
Its demise is undeniably absolute,
its march inevitable to many’s chagrin,
although they whish to play a charade.
The mirror does not lie,
the truth is before your eyes.
why must it be a tragedy?
It is just the normal progression of age.
Is it truly and unmitigated travesty?
Or have we been conditioned to see, disparage.
I refuse to be one more in this tragicomedy,
instead, I will enjoy the changes at every stage.
Gypsy Red
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