Getting Old

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Dialogue by an old lady whose beauty is fading gradually

Submitted: July 11, 2017

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Submitted: July 11, 2017

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Am I beautiful? Asking in front of the mirror 
Her lips twitched a smile 
If something wrong she asked; felt a terror
Sat on the chair with a mirror in hand
Her fingers brushed the reflection as if made of sand
Try new hairstyle, lipstick or blush-on
Something has faded; something has really gone
Am I beautiful as yet? She shivered
Her cheeks fell her lips quivered
Shocking colored nail-paints, that red frock
Felt like... were nothing but a mock
Gone are the days when
You used to place your hands on my shoulders
'No one can be beautiful as you are!'
The voice is still in my ears Yeah listen shush
Doubts and fears were all I had to push
Away from you away from me away from us
I don't remember what's created so much fuss
Age passes so fast I bet I didn't ever wonder
I bow before you and I surrender!
Wrinkles on her face seem like screaming 
'You're getting old' with rage streaming
There is silver color in her hair 
No bead-bands and clips she can wear
I am no more young still the young is in me
Am I?
'Beautiful' she whispered .. oh no I see!

 

 


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