My skin isn’t perfect, it doesn’t glow gold. My skin is getting wrinkled, because I am getting old. My skin has stories to tell, some sad and true. A map to my life, some history too. My skin has scars, some big and some small. From being clumsy, and taking a fall. My skin bruises easy, from a tap or a thud. I sometimes think, I was given a dud. My skin discolors, burns and sores. I can’t find a cream in ANY of the stores. My skin spouts hairs, in silly places. When out in public, I get weird faces. My skin is sensitive, so don’t scratch or hit.It’s very fragile, even where I sit. My skin is my shield, to keep me safe. If left unattended, it will crack and chafe. My skin only shows, half my beauty. Protecting what’s inside, doing its duty. My skin won’t last, to far into the future. Its not getting younger or very much cuter. My skin isn’t perfect, it doesn’t glow gold. It’s more like a diamond, tough and bold.
I appreciate and love my skin, despite how discolored, scarred, flawed, wrinkled, stretch marks or whatever it may have. I love the skin I am in!
Writing 201: Poetry- Internal Rhyming about Skin