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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