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