She always wears black
It suits her mood
Sultry and menacing
Shes thirty too soon
Turns down advances
From suitors too bold
She is the sort
Who should never grow old.
Always different
Even at school
She moves like a dream
So sexy, so smooth
She can sit at a table
In a downtown bar
No need for company
But leaves the door ajar.
When last orders call
She catches reflection
Do her eyes look puffy
What about her complexion ?
Shes thirty too soon
Her jeans a little tight
Laugh lines not wrinkles
She disappears to the night.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: November 15th, 2025 04:14
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 22
Offline)
Comments2
I remember the time when thirty seemed to be the marker of old age. Now it seems the beginning of youth after leaving childhood. Age such a relative thing, I remember my grandfather at my age and he looked so so so old. Good write
Thanking you, much appreciated
You are most welcome
She inspires me the fragrance of a past shadow...
thanks for reading, appreciated
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