In A Mirror

sometimes the mirror is nice, other times....

I look into the mirror first thing in the morning.
I groan aloud, and shake my head.
I want to cry out, that isn't me!
I'm still young and lively!
Where did this crone come from?

Later in the day, I chance a glance
into the mirror, looking to see if my hair
is still in place.
I smile as I notice a few more lines;
that's ok, I've earned my stripes.

Early in the evening, the mirror helps me
to make sure my makeup is on correctly.
That my dress is free of wrinkles,
I touch-up my lipstick, and head out
into the night.

Late that night, I stumble in,
and pass the mirror again.
My face is flushed, and my makeup is smudged.
I smile and laugh out loud at the sight before me.
I fall into the bed, unconscious, just to start over again.

25 lines, 146 words