Life has its odd little swings
Self doubt can bring your world crashing down
Caught in a fish-net of asylum madness
The dust of an inner alley can chill your bones …
Looking in the mirror at her image
She froze becoming a pillar of salt
That glassy face of paper mache
Stared at her, so frayed and mushroom white.
Funny how carnival mirrors made her laugh
Way back in nineteen forty-four,
Now her proud youthful perfection’s gone,
Those same mirrors are a horror in twenty-fourteen.
The roots of her problem – her vanity fair
That strokes her ego and drapes her heart,
Too much water has passed under the bridge
The crisp freshness of her youth was gone.
Fight she may the ravages of time
With pure white Dove, the soap of the stars,
But the wrinkles lay claim to her face …
Her bulbous red nose was now her disgrace.
So she went to her master Beelzebub
To sell her soul for the luxury of youth …
Flew she then through the air on his blackened wings
Through time in his mystic time machine.
Gone were the wrinkles – gone was the flab
And once again it was great to admire herself.
She smiled from ear to shining ear …
Forgetting there would be a price to pay.
But time unstopped kept marching forward …
And great was her consternation to observe
That time like water erodes all things …
Then brings low every mortal, man or beast.
Finally Death knocked upon her door …
She was not humbled nor penitent,
But horror met her as she walked through the gates
She saw her wreaked face in a thousand mirrors.
Happy Notes: life doubt swings
Misky: legs stood crashing
Debi: fight mushroom fiery
Viv: sturdy stern strokes
Ron: nose found ear
Nicole: low asylum dust
Barbara: luxury alley chills
Irene: fishnet glassy rang
Roslyn: frayed wings clasped
Sabra: water roots froze
Jules: soap salt bread
Miss Stacy: turn white soap
Hannah: crisp air gone
C.C. proud great claim
PuffOfSmoke: miles face mirror
Anya: fence drapes paper
These words were collected from last week’s contributors of the Red Wolf‘s poetic prompt #218 “Time Travel”.