The Wicked Thing on the Wall

There’s something wicked on my wall

A full-size mirror is what they call

It waits for me to come on by,

To shatter my little youthful lie.

I stroll on by with head held high,

Feeling very young and spry.

But then I catch that wicked gleam,

And face the truth in one harsh beam.

“Who’s that there?” I squint and stare,

“Surely not me, that’s not my hair!”

Where’s the body I used to flaunt?

Why do these wrinkles like to taunt?

That mirror’s up to something sly,

Showing what I’d rather deny.

It knows the tricks my mind can play,

Where youth and health will always stay

In my mind, I’m still a queen,

Young and fit and beauty seen.

I’ll keep living in my head,

And leave that mirror I oh so dread.

It can’t take what’s in my heart,

No matter how it plays its part.

So let it mock and show the truth,

I’ll live forever in my youth!

Sonja Wendt

Enhancing children’s sensitivity in human interactions one story at a time.

Author and Multi-Generational “Sharing Life Stories” Leader

Cultivating Compassion in Children Books Series

720-260-6296