Cona Adams Poet Concrete

On the Face of It

)))))))))))))))))))))))
                      (((( From the hour of ((((
                  )))) birth, our body betrays ))))
              (((( us. As babies, we struggle to (((( 
          )))) overcome its will to remain in the )))) 
    (((( womb. As toddlers, we fight to control (((( 
   )))) its  functions.  In  childhood,  our battle )))) 
  (((( takes the form of broken limbs, crooked (((( 
  )))) teeth and scraped skin. In youth we decry ))))
  (((( its cruel tricks, mocking our progress. As (((( 
  )))) adults, we push the limit, put on self neg- ))))
  (((( lect in the pursuit of success. In old age, (((( 
    )))) it repays our effort with creaky limbs,  ))))
      ((((  weak eyes & decayed teeth. At the  ((((
           ))))   last hour, our body becomes   ))))
                  ))))   a traitor, with a will   ((((
                       ))))    of its own,     ((((
                    ))))     speaks to us       ((((
              only in the language of death. If we
         have considered the fact that life never ends,
       and accepted  God's  plan for life eternal, we will   
      receive the gift of Heaven's joy and peace forever. 

Note: It doesn't display on poetrysoup, but they eyes, nose, and lips on the face were delineated by color on the original.

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