The Statue in the Mirror was a person long ago,

She used to dance in foggy fields in rain that turned to snow,

Her hair was burning auburn in the sun that set for night,

And she'd fly away to outer space on the tail-ties of her kite.

In baited breath she'd look below, at the ones who've turned with age,

And wondered how they acted like adulthood was their cage,

For after all, her youth was hers!  And she knew it would go on.

Yet little did she know, in vain, her innocence was wrong.

     Suddenly a broken bone had veered her off her course,

But a wise person had told her once to get back on her horse.

So shaking off that tiny scare she went back on her kite,

Yet silently her nightmares came, and youth flew out of sight.

    She learned that trust was precious, and she had a springtime flu,

And when the in-crowd found her there -they laughed at her kite too!

But by and by her kite sailed off, and she fell down with a crash.

Her feet became her anchor weight and her hair turned white with ash.

Her skin turned wrinkled leather and her eyes began to dim,

-(And the mirror never tells about the girl who's left within.)

A solid looking statue has deprived her of her face,

     But I still look high for that kite in the sky,

                 And I dream of outer-space.