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★★★★★ (5)
Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #893599

A poem about aging

Southern gentlemen do grow grey

Firey manes
smothered by winter's snow

Fancy new sticks support shaking limbs

Perfect pearls no longer glisten
an eggshell white

They still maintain such manly grace,
though stumbling from time to time.

How it saddens me so to see,
southern gentlemen do grow grey.
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