Looking at my image
I detest what I see there
A woman smiling back at me,
who's totally aware
her visage is a mockery,
carefully selfstyled
reflection fractured back
in that mirror tiled.
Smiling lips hide bitter tears,
of weary lonliness
Bright blue eyes dance alone
in apathetic bashfulness
Skin aglow, lips upturned,
a ready smile for you
Turn pale at night when all alone,
seen by very few.
The tiny lines, the iron gray hair,
I can see it all
Hidden gracefully from you,
my best effort to stall
The ravages of time unchecked,
no longer mine to live
And hope in death you'll see my truth.
and perhaps forgive.
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