A wrinkle stands not only for age
But, for the many miles that we've went,
For our sadness, and also for all our rage
And for all the uncounted smiles that we never sent.
In solitude we look upon each other's faces
We then comprehend each of those sadden lines,
We remember our walks, and the long winding races
Furrows in the skin, is life's true signs.
A crease in the skin is a philosopher's crown
There's a crinkle in God's face whenever I see a star twinkle,
Immediately I think of a disapproval or of a frown
I then laugh, as I know that a person somewhere is getting a wrinkle.
I stand in front of you and the world in awe
The frowns that I've show are from my own personal scars,
Upon my face are the lines which my worries did draw
And as for my wrinkles, they are now forever my memoirs.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem