Is the mirror getting old?

She raises her doubts, to the figure in gold
Am I pretty no more, or is the mirror getting old?
She finds a scar on her face, she looks untold
Am I pretty no more, or is the mirror getting old?

She looks at the glass, who looks back at her
She tries some make up, but it doesn’t help
Then all her dresses , she pulls off the rack
She tries them all but none works well.

She wants to reason, with her questions on hold.
Am I pretty no more, or is the mirror getting old?

No blemish, no wrinkle, she could find no pimple
The smile seems missing and so is the dimple.
Lost is the glow, the spark and the twinkle
Though hard to accept, but the loss looks simple.

She asks an answer, for every crease and fold.
Am I pretty no more, or is the mirror getting old?

She thinks of her love, far in the past
Growing old with time, but it happened too fast.
The glow he gave her, was supposed to last.
All her beauty & glow, went with him, in contrast.

She stares at the mirror, finds its guts so bold
And tries to fit in, in the golden mould
She asks again, the same old doubt Am I pretty no more, or is the mirror getting old?

Not an original picture but it just fit so well!

For context, this was written more than a decade back and I really feel old. I dug out this note and edited it through to post here. And my handwriting was so awful! I was a scholar with an awful handwriting! But I like the reminder of how it used to be putting pen to paper.