These Lines That Mark My History
Mirror, Mirror upon this wall
Can’t you ignore or just forestall
These lines that mark my history
And make me feel so small
Among the people of this day
Who have not faced these hairs of gray
Or drooping skin once so taut;
The results of slow decay.
They have their beauty; I had mine.
But in your glass I see decline,
A face I do not recognize,
A crumbling old design.
I wish that you could lie to me
And show me what I want to see,
But you were built for truth alone,
Despite my bitter plea.
My youth has surely come and gone
Once so vibrant and now so drawn
And I am left to welcome it
And somehow carry on.
Copyright © Christopher Berry | Year Posted 2011
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