BLINDED TO MY OWN

I saw the beauty found in aging…

Until those signs were found in me,

And now I run from what I see...

Only to watch as it catches me.

I avoid the mirror, and yet, I see,

The aging signs upon my hand,

And I can’t leap now in escape,

Nor find youthful feet upon to land.

Great beauty found in age, I see,

But none I find today in me.

Denial comes in many forms…

But hard the one that so informs.