Author Eunice Tietjens HE Dyes His H AIR I dye my hair, but not — as you have said — To heap youth's follies on an aging head. In time of grief men walk in sober black, And I'm in mourning, since my youtHis dead. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments