Time Was...A Poem by David Lewis PagetI stare at you and you stare at me, That picture of me before, You looked so young in your pedigree Before we both went to war, But life has left its mark on the face That was captured, back in time, And now there’s little left of your grace, There’s nothing that’s left of mine. For you’re a constant reminder of The man that I thought was fine, I look in awe at your forehead where There isn’t a single line, Not one of the cracks and crevices That now will litter my brow, I wonder how you would feel, if you Were able to see me now? If only I had been painted like The Picture of Dorian Gray, Then you would possibly look like me And I’d be like you today, My faults and pleasures you’d never know Except on your painted face, And you would never be put on show, While I would retain your grace. But time and life are a cruel pair, For age to them is a joke, They both conspire to grey your hair From the time you enter their yoke, They run their tractors over your face Emasculate skin and bone, And when you look, there isn’t a trace Whatever you were, has flown. No sweet young thing will look at you now, If so, she’s telling you lies, The only sign of the love you’ve known Will still reside in your eyes, And so you look at your lady now Who stuck by you, thick and thin, And praise the Lord that she’s aged like you, As you’re falling in love again. David Lewis Paget
© 2017 David Lewis PagetReviews
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