Wrinkles

Worries kissed the forehead,

Sorrows caressed the eyes,

Even smiles left their marks,

Like tyres on muddy tracks.

My face carved by emotions,

Ravaged by age and skin deterioration,

They do kiss-and-tell,

Tales of care that failed.

Friend said,”…Wear them with pride,

As a sign of all things survived…”

But, I try to hide them,

Horrified by the signs of neglect personified.

Cream, exercise and prayer,

All went into the quagmire,

Laughing stock, I become,

In my desire to be young.

Efforts to appear what I am not persists,

Excuse for what I aspire to exists,

A battle to reverse the clock goes on,

A trial to pave a path lives on.

Shiny and new is the mantra,

Always a fascination to ride with the in-style junta,

The fine lines remain stubborn,

Guilt-edge bond of suppression.

They are valued in some places,

Scorned in most private spaces,

Youth is priceless,

Wrinkles are worthless!