(paint chip poem)
As we grow older
The years can be seen torn upon the face
Weathering conditions crackingBreaking the surface
Crows landing next to the eyes
Leaving foot prints in the aging clay
Spots begin to appear
Marring the beautiful silky exterior
The superficial appearance
Masking the inner child
The one who laughs
The one who smiles
The one who stopped the years
Safe from the outside world
Only a glimpse every so often
Both captured into one eternal being
I remember seeing this image in one of my classes in high school. It's interesting. I love these lines of yours, in part because I see them on my own face here lately: "Crows landing next to the eyes/Leaving foot prints in the aging clay."
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