the Betrayal

I am an older woman, trying to hold her own in the land of younger women, many fashion bloggers.  Some days are harder than others...

Sometimes I look in the mirror and wonder who is reflected,

I see the years clearly marked, each and every one leaves a trail.

And other times, when the light is soft and the make-up is working,

I catch a glimpse of the me that used to be

And I believe that she's still here.

But reality is cruel and returns with no warning,

That woman called ma'am,

The eyes of young men glide over,

The doors held open,

Who gave permission, the body, the spirit,

Trapped together.