Am I still beautiful like I use to be?
Are there lines decorating my being?
Will I stay pretty like a pod still holding its pea?
or wither away trying to find meaning?
Handsome it is I use to be called.
My personality in life is unequaled,
but at years after years get installed
will I wither away trying to be restored
Women and men worry a lot.
Here and there planning a plot,
to give life all they got.
In exchange for just a shot
Just know that
Worry does not do a good thing
but to persist with an effort to cling
and when we give it a wing
it establishes control as a king
By Funmi Shoyomi