Age

age is a number

fearing age, an illusion

youth-seekers, obtrusive

mirrors, delusions

thinking beauty is lost

each year that we live

fleeting youth so hard fought

when there’s much more to give

self-esteem early taught

in a physical realm

with my mother, a beauty,

ever taking the helm

of the ship that would form

my view of self worth

which valued itself

in my physical girth

at nearly aged 60

the shadow is long

i see in all photos

this weakness still strong

seeing wrinkles and sagging

a stranger’s odd face

which tells me my mind

doesn’t fit in this place

on-line life ever preaching

to be what we’re not

fruits far too low reaching

trashing all that we’ve got

but here’s the thing

here’s what i see

each scar, each furrow

is the fabulous me

each blemish i show

are unvalued gems

knowing all that i know

that i didn’t know then

the picture you see

may not be what you like

but the picture you see

is a portrait of life

something i’m proud of

something finely eclectic

because youth might be pretty

but with years i’ve perfected

void of all bullshit

that’s devoid of true light

my skin might be looser

but my mind is all might

i’m fiery and peaceful

mindful and bright

i can see through the fools

always keep love in sight

i know who i am

i’m who i should be

i’m formidable

and significant

and content to be me