I’m looking in the mirror,

but I’m not sure what I see.

the girl I recognize a bit,

but she certainly isn’t me.

Her hair is slightly changed,

I recognize those eyes.

her smile is not as happy,

it’s almost as if it lies.

Her head is not held high,

her chin is drooping down.

She seems to be quite sad,

though I’ve never seen her frown.

The laugh lines that she had,

when I first saw her face.

Have faded smooth, no longer there,

as if they’ve been replaced.

Her brow has taken on a shape,

furrowed close together.

as if to say this troubled girl,

has had her share of weather.

Her shoulders slump a little,

dejected if you will.

The confidence has gone away,

she now just seems so still.

I haven’t heard her speak yet,

She use to ramble so.

The life of the party she once was,

Who’s this stranger, I don’t know.

Where are the eyes that sparkled,

mischievously and sly,

In moments she’d have you laughing,

her charm and wit, the reason why.

Now she simply sits and stares,

this reflection keeps her still.

Who is this girl we are looking at?

This girl who doesn’t feel.

©Marsha L. Brown