The Wrinkle Poem by Margaret Kollmer

Happy was I as I trotted through life
Like a pen in a bottle of inkle
Till - why was I born?
Along came the dawn
Of the day I discovered the wrinkle.

A shadow descended, I suffered such gloom
Like a star that no longer could twinkle
I felt so bereft
I had flipping all left
On the day I discovered the wrinkle.

I tugged at my forehead to pick out the crease
As you would a recalcitrant winkle
But joy was elusive
The evidence conclusive
On the day I discovered the wrinkle.

Resigned to my fate, I tried a weak grin
And resolved to abide by my crinkle
When wow, Abigail, let me tell you a tale
Of a smile that ran off with a wrinkle.