Some Day My Friend

Some day my friend
you will also be my age,
when furtive morning mirror
will glance at whiffs of white
on jet-black mane;
will sneer at snow flakes
float on limpid eyes;
will mock at brows
that gently wilt and moult.
In those times think back
on youthful joys,
on kindness shown
and love bestowed.
And also of pain
that reckless youth
unknowing
strews wantonly
in the path of those
that youth leaves behind.