AGING

I'm not a "bag lady". I'm just an old bag!
Or call me a crone or maybe a hag!
No more am I young or a "cute little thing".
It's been a long time since I was "sweet 16"!
I still look good in my mind's eye,
But what I see in the mirror makes me moan and sigh.
I knew I would age, but it's really a shock
That my face looks like a crag of old weathered rock.
It's shapeless and wrinkled and colorless, too.
Is this what happens? Will I just fade from view?
I like who I am, and mentally I'm glad
That I can handle what hits me, even the "bad".
I thought I'd age gradually. I knew Youth wouldn't last,
But no slow morphing - my looks changed fast!
I never was tall but it came as surprise.
When I recently measured, I was an inch shorter in size.
And my hair is all mousy, and now mostly gray,
But I'll keep it long, at least for today.
My hands are skinny, my feet ugly and plump.
My tummy looks pregnant. Over all, I'm a frump!
When I dress up, you hardly can tell.
I dress clean and neatly, but I rarely look well.
Since "round" is a shape, then I'm in fine form -
Yeah, like hurricane clouds or a winter storm!
I've no choice but to age, and I'm not into pain.
Whining about it is a sorry refrain.
So this closing thought as I near the dark night:
Everyone will be beautiful in Heaven's sweet light!

- by Netagene, about myself, in only a few minutes, February 12, 2008 -