FAWM 2020 #12: Who Is This Old Man?

Reflections?

Lyrics

Who is this old man, staring from my mirror?
Without my glasses I can't tell: reflections once were clearer.
The bags under those racoon eyes, the sag under that silvered chin,
An old man looking out, while I peer in.

Who is this old man whose gray hairs fill my lap
Though the shop is empty? do I hear the barber laugh?
The apron filled, more salt then pepper,
The old man shorn, yet I'm the same as ever.

Who is this old man whose pains invade my bones?
I'm sure that I'd remember if I'd run a marathon.
My knees are creaking, my back is aching,
All the Advil I don't remember taking.

Who is this old man?
Who is this old man?
He surely can't be me.

© 2020 Tres Seaver