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Ode to wrinkles

Lines mark this weathered face.
Each a journey interfaced with life.
Oh how I cherish most, these wrinkles;
for they map a pretty balanced existence.

I know some of you mock me~
reminding me why you came to be,
but wrinkles that's okay; I'm still alive.
I'm a bit crinkled with the evidence of your homesteading.

Wrinkles you though, to me, are medals-
medals earned while I waged war
with illness, a teenager, and the process of getting older.
So I accept you and embrace you as such.

Remember dear wrinkles, you too shall come to pass-
for when I no longer journey this earth, when I
recline within the bowels of cold compacted clay,
you too will rest with me, no longer mocking.

1 comment:

Amias said...

I feel the same way. Our bodies changes with life, if it does not change it mean you died young, or you are 2/3 plastic. Well written!


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