Who is this person in the mirror that I see?
Surely, that person, cannot be me?
With a tightness to her mouth that was never there before,
A smile barely gracing her lips anymore.
Eyes that do not twinkle or shine with delight,
Instead marked with sorrow at the loss of tiny life.
Sagging shoulders tell of lost faith in all things good,
When bad things happen to those it never should.
The sense of failure and loneliness running deep within,
Cannot be covered up by make-up upon her skin.
Her footsteps falling heavily, she no longer walks light.
Her dreams but a distant memory of only ‘what might’.
New creases and wrinkles have been etched upon her skin,
As a souvenir of the journey, of grief that she is in.
A future being unravelled that was never her chosen path,
Others moved on – her alone in the aftermath.
Bitterness and resentment is the taste left in her mouth,
Anger and jealousy the only words she wants to spout
Each day she wears a mask so that noone sees her pain,
But in her heart she knows she will never be the same.
Thoughts of hope so hard to grasp, no matter how she tries
Happiness so far away, it seems only a lie.
Dark smudges show she’s tired. Resigned to this new fate.
I don’t want to be this person, but I fear that it’s too late.
By Sarah ©2012