Aging Poem

The Ways In Which Times Changes Us

I am a 25-year-old young lady trapped in the body of a 71-year-old woman. I have been writing poems most of my life but never tried to get them published before (other than my teacher posting them in our 3rd grade poetry pamphlet). A few months ago I went into my bathroom to brush my hair, stopped in front of the mirror, looked at myself, turned around, headed for my computer and feeling quite compelled, wrote this poem about what I see when I look in the mirror.

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The Sands Of Time

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Published: March 17, 2020

I look in the mirror and see
A stranger looking back at me.
Who's that person standing there
With wrinkled skin and such gray hair?
Could it be me?

Yesterday my hair was brown.
My skin was smooth, tan all around.
My shoulders straight, my posture proud.
My voice had strength to call out loud
My name.

I could dance all through the night
Until I saw the morning light,
And then I'd nap a short time and
I'd take my morning walk again.

Head for work, eyes all aglow.
Nothing 'bout me then was slow.
Was that yesterday?

Today I wake up when I can.
I try to stretch and cramps set in.
I stand up tall, at least I try,
But my arthritis makes me sigh.

My butt, it sags, my waist is gone
I shuffle now across the lawn.
My walker keeps me on my feet,
But sometimes my butt hits the street
Anyway.

Today is here, I thank the Lord.
I have no tumors, I'm just bored.
The sword of life cuts quickly through
The hours and days for me and you.

I had dreams yesterday
When life was grand and I could say
Someday when I'm old...
But that was yesterday.

And then I find today is here,
And I am looking in that mirror.
I see me, and suddenly
I am my mother, don't you see?

The hourglass of life begins
At birth, and one day it will end,
And through the sands of time are born
New generations that will form.

And one day looking in that mirror
A girl will see a stranger there
And wonder where she's seen somewhere
That person with wrinkles and such gray hair.

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