When I was young and having fun,
I prayed to stay that way,
But now I look into a mirror,
And see I have turned gray.
Upon more examination,
I see my eyelids sag,
And beneath my baby blues,
Are two big, puffy bags.
I have crow-feet lines around my eyes,
And wrinkles in my skin,
My once pink cheeks have sallowed some,
And both have sunken in.
A fold of skin hangs from my chin,
And I can make it swing,
It was never there before,
Such a silly, wiggly thing.
Where once I had soft, luscious folds,
Now flab has settled in,
And wrinkled crepe's begun to drape
Upon my naked skin.
My kidneys don't work as they should,
Nor do my lungs or heart,
My equilibrium is shot,
I've begun to come apart.
I'm not complaining, mind you,
For I know things could be worse.
At least my transportation's not...
In an undertaker's hearse.
If I remove all of my mirrors,
And keep my lights down low,
Then I'm still the kid I used to be
And I have not grown old.
I still know how to giggle,
And I can laugh when so disposed,
I still can flirt a little,
And be thrilled down to my toes.
I'm not a tired, old lady,
Though physically I'm spent,
I'm still in love with life,
I just wonder where it went.
In my heart I'm still a child,
I guess I'll always be,
I can't get the hang of growing old,
That's plainly not for me.
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Copyright February 2003 ~ Revised April 2009

Written on the 2nd anniversary of my 39th birthday!

Now it is 6 years later! Do the math!

Good Grief!