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
