The Woman In the Mirror
Who is that woman
That follows me around
She mimics everything I do
But she doesn't make a sound
She looks somewhat like me
More mature I must confess
Although her hair is grayer
She copies the way I dress!
She only appears in the mirror
Whenever I primp and preen
She's the spitting image of me
Except for the years between
Who is that aging woman
What does she want with me?
She always appears on my birthday
I wish she’d let me be
Now that I am eighty three
I thought I saw a tear
Did I say I'm eighty three?
It couldn’t be THAT year!
I’m still in my prime
Having fun and loving life
Getting into trouble
No worries, strain or strife
It must be HER birthday
We celebrate today
I wish her health and happiness
And good luck along the way
But she's really getting old
What more can I say
Why is she in my mirror?
I just wish she‘d go away!
Copyright©2011 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
