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Into the mirror I peered this morning, but my eyes could only see,

Not the reflection that was there, but what once was me:

A young girl whose face had no crow's feet or lines;

Embracing hopes for a bright future of a grand design;

A smile that had not yet known heartbreak's painful sting;

Green eyes that twinkled with childish mischief and daring;

Locks of darkest brown, extremely thick and difficult to brush;

Glowing cheeks that were easily enticed to a rosy blush;

Alabaster colored skin, velvety soft and silken smooth,

And full sensitive lips, yearning with kisses to tempt and soothe.

All manner of hopes and dreams were plainly written on that young face,

But time has changed it with events no vanishing cream can erase.

Into the mirror I peered once again, but this time the reflection was clear;

The young woman's face of years ago had changed, was no longer here.

Worry worked its black magic, creating countless lines that deeply creased;

Many of the youthful dreams unfilled, so the anticipatory look ceased;

The smile is slighter, shy and timid from heartbreak's painful stings;

Salty tears have left marks from the most painful parts of daily living;

Eyes, still mischievous, now peek from behind oval spectacles;

Secretly hiding away from modern life's pains and cruel prickles;

Gray and all too quickly thinning of those once curly locks;

My hair now requires dye from a store, manmade color from a box;

Lips that have tempted and soothed but still yearn for more;

Cheeks that continue to blush, but less frequently than before;

And the drying alabaster skin that whispers of life's battles.

All the changes that are here to stay speak in unsaid tattles

Of a face that has known despair and joy, known laughter and tears,

Now clearly reflecting a woman that has lived life for all her years.

But behind the face I now have, hiding beneath aged skin, that young girl still thrives,

So my youthful spirit lives within, and despite my age, the young girl survives.