ho's that old lady in the mirror?
It's no one I recognize in there.
Not that I care, for it's not me.
I'm alive with thoughts of flowers and birds of the air.
There's still some pulsing through my veins,
Wild thoughts of things I must share.
Not dull things reflected in that mirrored face laid bare,
For all to view and stare.
Who is that old lady in the mirror?
I don't know, and do not care.



   

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