Gift of new year

a poem by Shah Pravinchandra Kasturchand

New year is really new year,
That is now around, I hear;
For Men may come, and may go,
But this zooms on every year.

Last year, new year had come,
It’s also now here, very near;
I had my hair thick black then,
Have been greying now this year.

Will you not return, next year?
With gift of new a bald header?