DRIPPING SANDS OF TIME

I wonder…can you see them, too…
The dripping sands of time,
Or I alone aware they fall…
While youthfulness I mime.

With shade of brown I color gray…
These strands… refuse to cut,
As if through length I could deny…
My head’s a rotting nut.

Youthful years were spent on learning…
Things my mind has long forgotten
If I’d known it would come to naught…
Would have let the books grow rotten.

I would have let my brain lack knowledge,
Spent my days in play and laughter,
Settled for an empty brain...
You fill it up…the ends the same.

You think I jest, well tell me now,
The war of 1812…
Can you recall the year it fought…
Can you this problem solve?

The case is closed; you stopped to think!
These dripping sands of time…
I wonder…can you see them, too…
The fewer rungs to climb?