The mirror lies
Reflections tell tales
Truth
But she won’t accept
The lines of her life

The cosmetic cover up
Hiding the scars
Of years gone by
Brushed on perfection
Cut with a knife

Lines and imperfections
Smoothed over
Chemical peels
Strip her past
Beauty is only skin deep

Adorning the colors
Made up for the day
Ready to take on the world
Wrinkled
The lines are too steep

Hands grip the mirrored frame
She’s afraid to break the hold
Worry and fret
Become her regret
Alas, she is just growing old

©2015 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved