Signs of Change

Caught in the mirror, a glimmer of gray,

a lone strand of time, a thief on display.

It shines like a whisper of seasons long passed,

yet echoes of youth refuse to fade fast.

Each strand that emerges speaks softly of fears,

a testament written in laughter and tears.

I trace it with fingers that tremble in doubt,

for change is a river that won’t let me out.