Vanity
The mask you wear is fading gently,
The years you've grown show evidently,
The truth concealed so eyes don't see,
Your superficial impurities.
The photograph is sepia toned,
The colours borrowed, hues on loan,
The imprint of you, depth denied,
Your gestures wanton, lost inside.
The light just makes you seem surreal,
The scars eternal, never to heal,
The features that once held you high,
Your loss of perfect symmetry.
The majesty of your beauty gone,
The shadow of what once was strong,
The piteous failure of your stem,
Your transition from us to them.
Generations passed and still,
To be as I you'd surely kill,
For my substance remains gold,
My dearest Mutti, you're naught but old.
From a daughter to a mother in our wonderful society. Inspiration provided by JJ ๐