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GRAY HAIR (a poem by Luper Damkor)

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As the hair grays, it browns the brain
But this is a gift that shouldn't be frowned away
Age might make a man frail
But certainly, it is a wisdom pail!
Forgetfulness sets in
Sometimes, nothing is certain
As you're headed towards drawing the curtain
Reality more often beckons
At this point, strength comes from within
The mind steady plays to a rhythm
The heart steady thumps a beating
Knowledge is vivid although the body beaten
It is a marvel, the Grace of gray
It is a cup, like the Holy Grail
Everyone longs... for a taste, they pray
But few do have a drink these days
In truth, the wise is woken...
To a reality where vows are spoken and bound to be broken
Where eyes are closed but minds are opened...
To an understanding that death is sober and life's an opium!

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