my mother doesn't wear perfume

Remember that time

When you, my friend,

Bought a liquid gift to my mother.

What a shame...

My mother doesn’t wear perfume.

Her hair is grey like ashes,

I could say the same about her skin.

She looks twice her own age,

Walking with little elegance.

I keep telling her to dye her hair,

To dress up nicely,

To wear that sweet perfume.

But sadly,

She isn’t a woman of empty vanity.