I was looking in the mirror,
And found to my surprise-
A stranger staring back at me,
With hard, and wary eyes.
Gone, the innocence of youth-
The strength of middle age-
A lot of bad decisions,
Were written on the page.
Scars, and wrinkles say a lot-
You are like an open book.
The past is written plainly,
If one knows how to look.
I could see each rash decision,
And the signs oft left by pain-
Which serve as a reminder-
Of what not to do again.
Regrets, oh, yes, I have some-
And memories, not a few-
Of people who have long been dead-
Or merely, lost, like you.
Lost, in this sense, only-
You are not here with me…
But, dear, I wish you all the best-
Wherever you might be.
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I love the visuals that came to mind as I read this!
Tank you
Duh… thank you