All Sweetness Gone (Poetry)

How I wish I’d stopped her growing
past the age of three or four
she was truly sweet at that stage
and so easy to adore

By the time she got to seven
baby cuteness had worn thin
quite eroded by eleven
all change at Nature’s whim

At thirteen the theme was moody
as reflected in dark clothes
and fickle as the weather
when a sudden cold wind blows

Yet I never dreamed by seventeen
she’d act so mean and sly
but she left one night without a thought
lured off by some fool guy

Not one word since in twenty years
ties cut with what’s long-past
that sweetness glimpsed in infant eyes
a phase not set to last