I keep seeing myself age as I stew and fret about so many things I cannot control.  To vent my frustration I wrote the following:

HAIR 

I have so little hair today,
I don’t know when it went away.
I look in the mirror and what do I see?
An older fellow that resembles me.

I have so little hair today,
I don’t know why it went away.
My head now gets, so very cold,
Could it be, I’m growing old?

I creak, and groan, and often pop,
When will these noises ever stop.
My joints all ache, and my feet are sore.
All this talk of age, becomes a bore.

Wisdom comes with age I hear,
My brains so big, it’ll explode, I fear.
The salves and balms, and pills I take
An ugly cocktail, they surely make.

I see young kids all running wild
This rocking chair makes me so mild.
I think I’m still so young at heart,
But why’s thin hair so hard to part?