Hands held up to the face, tears flowing Through open fingers. Dark hair slowly turning white, snowing, Memories and regrets alight. Thinking back to days before, Laughter, smiles, merriment. Thinking back to days ago, Brittle paint chips away. The image crumbles in outstretched hand, A memory disintegrates. With tired scrutiny trying hard to understand, The juxtaposed image shards. Aging before aging happens, Succumbing to decay. Open wounds, the pain sharpens, Can never be the same again. Dark hair slowly turning white, Lines drawn where once flawless skin. Tears run dry, track down beneath clawing fingers, As bitter memories and regrets linger.