When I look into the mirror
who looks back at me?
character lines etched
by a chisel
eyes that no longer
have clarity
wrinkles, skin loose
thinner than it was
time marches on, the woman
that looks back now so very
different than the girl of my
childhood, this is the grown up me
the foundations still remain
yet sometimes when I see myself
it’s hard to visualise who I once
was, the years unfailingly have
changed the image of the physical and
yet, I’m aware changes are inevitable
am I happy to accept?
some days I do, others not
should I convince myself
to refrain from feeling as I do?
my mind remains the same regardless
the inner me not altered
this is only my outer shell
one that has accompanied my
life for 57 years, yet forgive
me my reflection, there are
moments when I gaze at you
and wish that who looked back
was that little girl once more
swirling in a pretty party dress
without a care in the world
no thought given to appearance
no worries of her future
no desire for anything to change
compliments will flatter for just
a moment but they fail to erase
completely those times when
I look upon myself and feel this way
you may not know of what I speak
you may not have reached this stage
how my impression is of me now, the
aspiration to feel like that little girl
once more, a non-sensical notion
to turn back the hands of time
but just for one sweet moment
one brief minute or three
I think of how nice it would
be to have that chance
to start life over, to see the little girl
where I stand now….looking back at me
Written for – Picture it & Write
Ramblings From A Mum 