All My Faults

Not all my faults were mine See, if you follow every line, Cracked yearly by life's quakes After every turn she takes What did not fall apart Was recycled, to restart, Not knowing now or then She'd fractured, yet again Basking on bone and skin A wrinkle forms, o, so thin, A crevice I cannot erase From neither body or face Find me as I am today Scattered, every which way, Debris making up my shell Altogether, a story do tell From their beginnings humble To ending all a jumble, I, not smooth nor fine Not all my faults were mine.