When Little Timmy woke one day
And saw, before his eyes,
A tiny hair the shade of grey,
He stared in grim surprise.
'Good heavens, no!' he cried with dread -
'It's false!' the lad opined.
'I've far too many years ahead,
And far too few behind!'
'It isn't mine,' he whispered slow;
'I'm young,' he said with pride.
A yawn arose from deep below.
And Timmy fucking died.