The Lines On My Face

The lines on my face trace the tracks of my tears. They also record that I’ve survived many years. The light seems to shine through a crack in the wall. Hope assures me the decent is worse than the fall. The lines on my face are like a record of time. The memories of the past, seem to undermine. I look into the mirror they appear to grow bold. The lines perhaps mark a soul that was sold. The lines on my face remind me where I’ve been. They don’t mark the end but a place to begin. Some battles I lose while others I shall win. I search for my heart like that man made of tin. The lines on my face aren’t as bad as they seem. I still have my hope and continue to dream. I drift off and think of warmer days. I feel better as I feel the sun’s rays. The lines on my face define who I am. It not always perfect I do the best I can. I learn to realize that they mark a full life. Hope shall arise from the ashes of strife.