each day

undressed
in the mirror.
who are you.
what have years
done.
changed you,
from the child
you were,
into this.
greying and
holding hard to
every meal
consumed.
the hair, a
thin grey field,
the bend
of life,
the gravity of
time
curving you
towards the grave
as all
must go
eventually.
don't dim
the light, hold
true.
be bold in
your demise.
each day
conquered not
survived.