Sunday 6 April 2008

Old

Do you like my face, sweetie?
Do you like my shape?
Or do you miss the days when
I was young and lovely.

I was slim and pretty once,
Fair of form and face
Graceful, and your lover once,
You shivered when you touched me.

Old and haggard am I now.
Time has claimed its own.
Still you hold my hand, sweetie.
Why, I've never known.

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