An Ode to Alan AldaAn Ode to Alan Alda by ~Beowolfe03
Its true Time didnt treat him kindly, but no one ever said Time wasnt a conniving little bastard. You could tell from the first grey hair that old man Time would not approach him gracefully but come flying up and smear his fine features into the lines and wrinkles of an old man. The thick black fringe that once swept dashingly upon his brow had flown north and left the spot looking sadly forsaken, replacing it with only a fading silvery crown and a determined comb-over. His smile was still warm and full of knowing laughter but the teeth that extended straight as a jackknife beneath handsome lips were the hue of an old moon.