A looking glass on the wall
Unfeelingly displays it all,
Hanging crooked on a nail
Are images of life so frail.

Lifeless weary eyes stare
There is no spark there,
Once glowed hopes embers,
Now but dreamless cinders.

Mysterious lines on the face
Creases wholly out of place,
Zigzagging across the brow
Patterns of deep furrows plow.

White hair covers the crown,
Powdered as cottony down,
Once where curly locks grow
Now are only wisps of snow.

Hands held before the glass
Bear no likeness of the past,
Images of wrinkled skin appear
Hiding the smooth of yesteryear.

An old person is peering back
From between mirror cracks,
Someone completely unknown,
Sweet bird of youth has flown.

A youthful mind's stare holds,
Fixed on the vision it beholds,
Tears pool into haggard eyes,
Softly the wrinkled image cries.

Gnarled fingers gingerly unfold
Releasing life's story told,
Hands cover a sad face to hide
The youth weeping deep inside.