Young at heart
By monodemo
- 1524 reads
I look in the mirror and all I can see
Is a frail old woman staring back at me
‘Mom, is that you?’ I ask her bemused
But then I realize I was momentarily confused
I put on my glasses and touch my face
Then put the ‘poly filler’ on to make the lines erase
There once was a day the house full of life
Busy being mother, role model and wife
Now I live alone bar one son still home
The other eleven kids all have lives of their own
They come and they go and they visit me often
Sometimes their company I do get lost in
Through their trials, tribulations and woes
Between them grew great friendships and foes
It kills me to see them fight like Ali
It’s inevitable though with such a big family
They try to hide it as my health declines
Through one eye I am now legally blind
A pacemaker I have to make my heart beat
At 89 how long more will death I defeat?
This body of mine is starting to fail
My clothes are looser and I seem frail
So this old woman I see in the mirror
Happens to be me and I am her
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Comments
yep, old age doesn't come
yep, old age doesn't come alone, but sometimes with poetry and good cheer it finds a home.
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You capture the inevitable
You capture the inevitable reality of old age, looking in the mirror and seeing your mother gazing back at you. I can relate to this poem.
Jenny.
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Twelve children did you say,
Twelve children did you say, that is a very busy life and your head must still be busy with the ins and outs of all their lives and grandchildren too. You might need a holiday after Christmas. Thanks for sharing your delightful poem.
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