Her Final Tattoo
There was an old lady named Lindy Loos
Her skin was a canvas adorned with tattoos
Her back and her front were a fine work of art
But one final message she had to impart
For now she was old she had reached ninety one
Tired and weaker for her time had come
Her tatts like her soul were now creased and faded
No longer danced till midnight or walked unaided
And as the tattooist prepared his ink
Her life in tattoos, well it made him think
of a life laid bare through her many tattoos
For her final inking these words she did choose
‘No more words, no more skin
No more images to ink within
My life like my tatts is now fading away
As I wait for my calling on that final day
Like my tatts I wouldn’t change a single storyline
My skin is my biography so read it if you have the time’
And as he completed this poignant rhyme
She had already gone - for this was her time
Written 26th October 2018
Contest No 510
Sponsor Brian Strand
1st placement
Often people are quick to judge folks with many inkings, but these tattoos can be representative of the trials and tribulations they have had to deal with in their lives, for some are troubled souls whose only way of expressing their feelings is to have them inked upon their bodies. I wanted to say in this poem 'please do not be quick to judge'. I myself have no tattoos, but know many who do.
Copyright © Ann Gilmour | Year Posted 2018
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