I stand frozen in the darkness
as I stare into my mirror lit by moonlight...
barely able to believe - my old age is near.
See those wrinkles; see each shadow and dent.
Please, someone tell me where my years
of living went...
No pleasure do I find in platitudes
about golden years.
It is real and it is here with all its agonies
and tears.
How sad she is - old woman whose years
have passed her by.
She refuses to tint her hair - no white lies...
It is right there in the face that used to
be pretty and unlined.
Live your life before your days
are trinkets you can’t find.
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 3:56 PM UTC
I stand frozen in the darkness
as I stare into my mirror lit by moonlight...
barely able to believe - my old age is near.
See those wrinkles; see each shadow and dent.
Please, someone tell me where my years
of living went...
No pleasure do I find in platitudes
about golden years.
It is real and it is here with all its agonies
and tears.
How sad she is - old woman whose years
have passed her by.
She refuses to tint her hair - no white lies...
It is right there in the face that used to
be pretty and unlined.
Live your life before your days
are trinkets you can’t find.
Live like it is your last day
