How deceitful. My reflection.
My skin, the smooth complexion.
Youth is written on my heart.
One place it can’t depart.
Seasons change, my heart does not.
Breaking. Healing. Staying caught,
In the spirit of the young,
All the passions I have sung.
Years write lines across my face,
Robbing me of seemless grace.
How cold is my reflection.
These tears staining my complexion.
There is more to life than age.
More that’s written on the page.
See past this calm complexion,
To my heart and my reflections.