Poetry Contest Entry

Who Is That?

~By Aussie Lore

I stare in the mirror, and can't recognise
The image staring back at me.
Where is the child of so long ago,
So happy, careless and free?
Where is the youth of just one year back,
Full of hopes, ambitions and dreams?
Why is the adult that is now so sad
Wearing my face? Is it me? So it seems.
Why do I force myself to smile
When all I want to do is cry within?
Why should I always repent
For some yet uncommitted sin?
Why can't the first battle finish
Before another begins?
Why should I continue to fight
When there's no way I could win?
The wretched black rings of fatigue (or age)
Now circle round my weary eyes.
No longer can I walk around
Pretending that things are 'just fine'.
The wearied traveller staring back
Is the version of me now, I realise.
It is indeed such a shock to now be playing
In the dangerous contact sport of real life.

If there are any problems with this page, please email us the error. Thank you.