Skin

 

Upon birth it is delicate and untainted,

Pure and new, intrinsically satiated,

Unblemished, it is easily admired,

Even at the end of a day it looks not tired.

 

 

 

And as there is progress of time,

The beauty of it seems less sublime.

And years pass, the texture changes.

The ravishing of the world it now engages.

 

 

 

The inevitable creation of marks,

That taint the canvas’s art.

Are many now, visible shame,

It cannot be hidden, it is a sullied veil.

 

 

 

All the years that decimates its youth,

Are endured intolerably, wishing for ways to make it anew.

A battle to reclaim it, is often underway,

But there is no turning back not with the inevitability of age.

 

 

 

And as there is progress in time,

The beauty of it seems less sublime.

 It is worn now; the results are far less reserved.

For many it is doom, for some it is honoured, a marker of time served.

Reviews

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Yes, Time marching across your face! I always said I would grow old gracefully and I will. No one can stop the aging process and I feel that it is actually beautiful to see older people with the lines they have no doubt earned. I really love the way you have presented this Nicki...gently, emotionally and worthy...
Cheers,
Helen :-)))

[Nykkiicia Cion]

'a marker of time served'
thats a very beautiful line...but it also gives the impression of being locked in...like life is a prison and each year thats spent in life fades away the beauty. Its an interesting way of viewing sumthing as mundane as skin...but it captures all the battles ppl have been thru with wanting to maintain that 'youthful appearance'. I suppose this can be a metaphor for keeping the faith despite disappointments...u know, striving for youth even though that ship has sailed - keeping hope alive even though everything is hopeless. Ties in with the 'marker for time served' bit.

[Katie Ceas]

A very truthful poem. I can appreciate that. Cheers!