Masks

me 2

The idea of our age masking who we really are is something I identify with every morning when I look in the mirror!  It appears that the person in the mirror is only a mask of who I was and who I am. One of the beautiful things about blogging is the stimulation I receive from reading the poetry of others. The idea for this poem came as a spinoff of a poem I read yesterday on Roger Moore Poetry blog. Check out his blog as well.   rogermoorepoet

Growing old

Growing old is the mask

That comes upon

My forty year old mind

Scary at times

When I stop to look in the mirror

Growing old is that mask

Covering my seventy year old brain

Hiding memories

Of words just spoken

Leaving me a world of repetition

Full of questions

Growing old is the mask

Covering my sixteen year old body

Memories still fresh

Body now old and sagging

No hair left for a ducktail

Brylcream long gone

Growing old is the mask

Of fat and wrinkles

Covering my thirty year old body

Leaving me unrecognizable

When looking in yesterday’s mirror

Wondering who is looking back at me

Growing old is the mask

Given me so grandchildren

Will not confuse me with their father

Just chips off the old potato

Growing old is simply

Changing masks every ten years

*****************************************

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

 

 

 

 

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