It was just a glance… then it turned into a stare,
For who was that aged creature standing there?
The eyes were full of red with rings like half quarters,
Thin lifeless hair, double chin, slumping shoulders.
Ancient, worn, weathered from living and days spent,
My skin crawled as up my back cold chills it sent.
I mused… “Who was this old person looking at me?”
The reflection of the one I had come to be.

Written by Loyd C Taylor
June 6, 2008
We get older and daily deteriorate, but don't realize just how much, until one day we see our reflection. 

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