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The Silver Fox
The silver fox will I become
Now that I am no longer young?
And so my hair must soon change,
While I hope that it shall not look strange.
It happens to us as we do get old,
As if by magic we become controlled.
I hope that I may still look smart
When those relentless changes start.
So to my brown hair I'll say goodbye,
But I'll not weep and I'll not cry.
And as I can't turn back those...
Sunday 4th May 2025 10:36 am
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