Deceitful Skin
Deceitful skin unbinds itself from flesh
While struggling cells attempt to mesh
No answer, cure, or solution
For this troubling ailment reeking of pollution
It spreads a thrashing coiling vine
That withers and strips away everything that once was mine
Now the hand that danced smooth and young
Is wrinkled crippled by the cold barb that has stung
Rose red droplets bloom from stretched skin
For its grown leathery while it peels thin
Fingers tremble with each and every movement
Hoping someday for a hint of improvement
This poem is about:
Me
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