Wrinkles.

This is poem, that I wrote because of my grandmother.

The wrinkles on her skin.

They show a battle, that did not break her.

Those fine lines show that she has smiled.

Those dark circles shows that she stayed awake with a wondering mind.

Those dry hands shows that she did not depend on a machine but herself.

To everyone else those wrinkles on her skin.

They show a feeble and old women.

Those fine lines means that she is weak.

Those dark circles  show that she has cried herself to sleep in her life.

Those dry hands show that she cannot hold your hand.

The wrinkles.

The time.

The memories.

The Sorrow

The pain.

She has faced a battle that our generation would fall for.

She has faced a battle that she still woke up; the morning after with no regrets.

She took a problem and made a solution to fix it.

Those wrinkles.

Wrinkles.

Showing time.

 

Author's Note

Something I wrote...

Reviews

[Jack Wolfe]

She has faced a battle that in our generation now would break us down so quickly that tomorrow wouldn't matter. (this line couldn't be truer, but it is long winded, and disrupts the flow.)

She has faced a battle that she still work up the morning after with no regrets. (woke)

Very nicely written, and very true in its nature, the two lines above, are the only issue I found. They're long winded, and distracted, condense them to be more concise and you'll enrich this piece.

[мalғy]

Thank you for the help!