Poet's blog: "Poetry"

aging harlot

who am I ?
where did I go?
how did I come to be
A stranger in a mirror
looking back at me?
I remember a younger face
that once looked back.
this other person has
enjoyed life though,
seen many wonderful things,
and have a happiness inside
that shines through the
wrinkled face looking back
at me..
yet I search
for that which seems missing
my head hurts because, but
I sample the chocolates
taking a bite
and if it is offensive
leave half behind

poet