An aging debutante/socialite hoping for a last chance at love before she’s too old.

Before the mirror, her usual place
She can faintly see the lines
Time has etched in her pretty face
Her make-up can’t hide the signs
She stares now into the glass
Recalling the wasted years
Funny how quickly time does pass
(Puts diamonds in her ears)
Sitting, watching, always waiting
Will she ever come to know
The love she’s been anticipating
(Pins her hair up, just so)
She thought that she had all the tools
To build lasting romance
Perhaps all men a simply fools
(Gives her red dress one last glance)
Expectations were never met
Promises were not fulfilled
But faithfully, she cast her net
As a fisher of men she’s skilled
Always the stunning socialite
But age does take a toll
The butterfly takes wing tonight
(For youth she’d trade her soul)
Is this the debt she now must pay
The party girl of yore
For the men that passed from day to day
Through her love’s revolving door
Tonight may be her swan song
Her final chance to shine
Get what she’s waited for so long
Someone she can call “mine”
If only there’s some man out there
Who’s older and quite refined
About her past, he does not care
He’s generous and kind
He will not mind the wrinkles – those
We all get as we live
He will accept this faded rose
And all she has to give.
©2010 – Andrea J. Shannon
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