The years keep telling me my age.
The lines refine and remind me
How many smiles have crossed this face
And creased it with joy.
But the rosy spots of youth remain,
Confusing my reflection.
All my life, I've been trying to follow the advice to grow up.
But my skin refuses,
Infusing a woman with an eternal teenager,
Minus true youth.
I try to grow up,
But the future is spotty.