An insidious weed creeps through my lawn
with intent to kill the beautiful
and I watch somewhat amused
at its amazing audacity.
How dare it take on the power of one?
How dare it have no regard
for the smooth and unwrinkled façade
of the essentially stunning?
Time is a weed unstoppable
with a despicably twisted mind
and my body bears good testimony
to its evil designs.
It’s no good preening and creaming,
it’s no use denying the fact,
and so I accept time’s awfulness
with a decidedly bad attitude.
But in the fullness of what’s still to be
an attitude procreates fact
so I know to remain somewhat amused
while waiting for the last laugh!