She looks down
through the reading glass,
At the old
picture faded gray,
It makes her
think of times long past,
As lonely
memories drift away.
She thinks “who
is that pretty girl,
That all the
young men once adored.”
With just a
glimpse and half a smile,
The suitors
flocked to her front door.
But time has
taken its slow toll,
And girlish
charms have long since gone.
The beauty
nature had bestowed,
Is now an old
forgotten song.
She giggled and
flirted her way through life,
Deceit and lies
were her forte΄.
Over broken
hearts and bitter souls,
She danced
through life while others pay.
She knows the
end of life is near,
With sadness she
will greet death’s call.
For all the
things she could have been,
She may as well
not have lived at all.
© John Greenwood 2008