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)