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.
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