Where Have You Gone?
Some Times I See You Still,
In your eyes I see your will.
Old age is not a disease that’s catching,
But most seem to fear it and leave running.
A part of you is still there,
It is not in your thin white hair.
But in your eyes I can see,
A glimmer of your former glee.
One day soon we will have to say goodbye,
And maybe then you can fly.