The month continues to pass, and I continue to remain about two days behind; so I will continue to write after the month ends; we will reach the 31 mark, even if it’s on April 2. For tonight, I was thinking about one of the things that women do that is considered so awful, so dastardly that a woman who does it loses any small measure of respect she once had, and is no longer considered fit for society. I’m referring to getting old…or maybe just older. Witness Don Lemon’s comments about Nikki Haley, a woman much younger than the men who are the frontrunners for their party’s presidential nomination. So tonight, a poem.

IF WOMEN WERE DORIAN GRAY

 If women were Dorian Gray,
Men would not look on us in scorn
For getting old.
They would not see our age,
Our faces as fresh as the day
We had the picture painted.

 If women were Dorian Gray,
All the wrinkles,
All the care lines,
All the worries,
Would be locked in the closet
Where no one would see.

 If women were Dorian Gray,
We would stay forever young
Tempting, tantalizing,
Able to attract men
And more men
Until the day we died.

 If women were Dorian Gray,
Our features would be
Etched in marble.
You wouldn’t see the years
Which made us tired,
And made us wise.

 Our skills would be as unnoticed
As unappreciated,
As the skills of an old woman who has
Earned every line on her face.
Every wrinkle should be cherished
For each represents survival and knowledge gained.

For those who are not aware of the reference, see The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. I imagine Wikipedia has heard of it.