"Grow old with me. The best is yet to be."
- Robert Browning -
Original to Steemit, I've written a sonnet about aging.
Though creases and white hair adorn my face,
My image in the glass I soon forget.
More pressing problems rapidly replace
Awareness that, to time, I've paid a debt.
But even as I ply each daily round,
Two sentinels remind me of my plight.
Avoid them, I cannot, for without sound,
Relentlessly they torment, day and night.
I see them as each task I execute.
No respite will they grant, no judgement stay.
The fact they herald, I cannot refute.
They tell me Father Time has had his way.
My two hands tell a story, plain and bold.
I can’t escape their truth; I’ve become old.
For much more of 
