What can I do,
its not my mistake,
life would take its
own claim and every stake.

She blames me,
she thinks I have become old
and cannot be the same
and I need some mould.

The first time she saw me,
she was 20 years and flattered,
and almost after 25 years,
she is asking it to be repeated.

The wrinkles on her face
and the greyness of her hair,
the old age at its pace,
and everything so to declare.

I am a simple mirror,
reflect her as she was,
nothing that I do, to
give the touch midas.

She blames me,
she thinks I have become old,
not realising her age,
let this truth go untold.

What else I can do,
its not my mistake,
life would take its
own claim and every stake.