The mirror is no friend of mine,
Look at the wrinkles,
And that toothless smile,
She complained.
I was beautiful
The belle of the ball
Thousands of admirers everywhere
She reminisced.
As she became silent
Her tears rolled down
Sitting here she had gone
To a time long ago
The ensuing silence spoke
Of her pain
Of her old age
And of the loss of youth.
I tried to
To take her pain away
To calm her
The young lady
Trapped in an old body
Your wrinkles remind me
Of the tales of my childhood
Each missing tooth of
Of our shared misadventures
You are beautiful
I tell her
Still
Admired by thousands
My screams fail
To break her reverie
As she mourns
The loss of her hearing!