The Mirror
 
As I stand before the mirror
I can’t believe what I see;
Oh, the wrinkles and the gray hair
Is that old man really me?

Tell me, where is the little boy
Who so loved to romp and play?
Oh! The years their toll have taken…
 How I let them slip away…

To return… what I would not give!
 But I can’t to youth return;
Yes, I miss those days of childhood
 For them I shall ever yearn…

Long before I knew the troubles
 And the cares that plague all men,
Back when I was but a young boy
 Oh! How happy I was then!

All was well, and I felt safe there
 In the haven of my home;
Oh, to go and dwell once more there…
 From it I would never roam!

Oh, to hear familiar voices,
 And to know that all is well
With the dear ones I remember
 And with whom I loved to dwell.

If I only would have known then
 What I know as I stand here
I’d have paid much more attention
 To the things I now hold dear…

For what’s gone cannot be reclaimed,
 It’s forever in the past;
Memories are all that’s left now
 How I pray that they will last!

How we miss the days with mother,
 And the time we spent with dad;
How we love the precious mem’ries…
 We knew not then what we had.

Sunday dinner down at Grandma’s
 (I still see the table set);
All the children playing gaily
 Special times we can’t forget.

I will cherish what I had then
 In my dreams of yesterday;
In this way I’ll pass the long years
 In the fight amidst the fray.

And this old man in the mirror
 Who is staring back at me
Will recall the happy mem’ries
 Of the years that were carefree.

Looking ever to my childhood
 For the strength I need today;
I will live again the old times
 And once more I’ll romp and play.

If you look into your mirror
 And there see an aging face
It will do you good to visit
 Your own special hidden place.

Go again back to your childhood
 Think of mother’s loving face;
Think of dad, and all the fam’ly:
 That is your own special place.

No one here can take it from you
 And it’s not that far away.
Age is but an outer symptom
 Don’t forget to romp and play.

You’re as old as you choose to be
 Be as happy as you please;
If you’ll look at life in this way
 It will bring your heart much ease.

Stop right now, and just remember…
 Think back o’er the many years,
Don’t you feel your heart now warming
 As you shed those happy tears?

H. L. Gradowith
08-21-01
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