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Reflections
O’ mirror on the wall.....
Who’s the image in that glass,
that stranger staring out?
Those cheeks once fair, show streaks of wear,
an imposter’s face, no doubt.
Where’s the mane of thick dark hair,
that once adorned this crown,
for the shades of gray, erode away,
rich tresses once hued brown.
O’ mirror on the wall.....
What’s that crease, upon this brow,
that wrinkled, crinkled fold,
and those pleats of skin, that greet my chin,
they belong on someone old.
A most dreadful look, a horrid view
it’s fate’s sadistic crime,
for just last fall, I could still recall,
a young man in his prime.
