Vanity is the quicksand of reason

The grey hairs may come
And my knee feels like it's done
I have to  exclaim the struggle to rise from a chair
I've some bother with my left eye
And why
Just why
Are my ears growing hair

But at 40 I'm fitter than at half the years
And there doesn't seem too much toll
From double decades of beers
And my fear
Of a hairline that recedes
Needs
Rethinking

Some vanity remains
If you dig far enough down