

Sad hours
by the mirror,
regreting the wrinkles,
hating the grey,
sighing for their youth
of yesterday.

Lying about their age,
buying lotions,
trying potions,
forgetting
in this book of life,
they never can turn back
a single page.

So what becomes of vanity
when youth has gone away?
Are photographs
the last remains
of the glory of yesterday?

'And what becomes of ego
when self respect is dead?
perhaps it dies
when starved of lies
on which in it’s hunger fed.'

© 2008 Angel's Whispers (All rights reserved)

Hello Dear Friends,
I would like to thank you in advance for reading my words, and also for any comments that you leave.
I appreciate your thoughts dearly and value your time to read and review my work.
I send to you many beautiful blessings of love and happiness.
Take care dear friends.
Your friendly angel in poetry,
~Angel-Anne~







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