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Derma-Chris Crinkled
How I long for days of yore,
Young at heart with open door.
Wishful, bashful, silly grin;
Wearing smooth and silky skin.
Now the years have passed me by,
My wrinkled face makes me sigh.
Cream it, stretch it, make it tight;
Purely for reflective sight.
Thinking of those times to come,
When then I can't remember some.
And even though a dermal sin,
I'll pray for crinkled skin again.
Copyright ©
Randy Freie
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