Inside Out
Once I wore shorts that
Did not reach my knees;
Now in hot weather,
I stick to Capris.
Skin that was supple
And tight as a drum,
Now seems to sag
At the age I've become.
Wrinkles crop up where
There were none before;
Each day I notice
I've sprouted some more.
Still, I get dressed and
Put on a brave face,
Under which hides
My young self, just a trace.
I guess as we age
We protect what we know,
That inside, we're the same
As we were long ago.
Copyright © Ilene Bauer | Year Posted 2011
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