Aged Beauty
SO I am old,
I've been told.
I forget some things
and what joy brings.
I try to remember
snow in December.
The flowers in June
or the full glowing moon.
I remember the hurt,
of remarks made in curt.
About how slow I may be
or that I really can't see.
I can hear very clear
when you criticize dear.
But someday soon you'll be like me.
And grow up to be and aged beauty.
Copyright © Karen Murphy | Year Posted 2014
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