Who is that in the mirror?
Surely, that’s not me,
I’m not seeing my own reflection,
Oh no, this can not be.
Age has come all of a sudden,
It has taken me by surprise.
I always thought I’d be young
good looking with clear beautiful eyes.
Now, time as taken its toll,
and I can plainly see.
That I’m no longer young,
Well, the person isn’t,
Who’s looking back at me.
An insightful bit of verse nicely crafted with artistic brilliance. Focused and factual.
Oh My! ...'Click your heels while the rest of your aged world takes to their rocking chairs! '... Your poem is lovely and surely rings of truth...I invite you to read my 'Sweet Bird of Youth' dedicated to a friend dealing with age...she was only '65'...Ha! 10 for you.
very good...you have a profound understanding of inter/intra-human relations. please, if time permits do dropp a comment on my poem 'elders'. it's about old age... only in a more serious tone. tnx
Time and tide waits for none. Why not enjoy each moment insted of mourning over it? nice poem. It shows how it is hard to be old.
Hi Pam, Of my age I am proud, I don’t feel shy when I look into the mirror; My silvery hair remind of the golden sunset To which I am now nearer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
When I look in the glass I see My father looking back at me but I'm still glad to be alive. Consider the alternative.