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Paper Skin

murphree8

There is grace in aging and then there is wrath.

It is a battle between two dialogues that we have with ourselves,

The life of beautiful treasures, and those things that are stolen.

What is stolen is innocence, nimble legs, and smooth skin.


The paper skin that covers old bones becomes bruised, scarred,

And it tells a story that is often overlooked by those with clear eyes.

Still, the worn paths that frail arms and thin skin reveal is part of the journey,

Part of a life well lived that could fill a hundred novels, a thousand tears, a million smiles.


One may see their reflection in the mirror or from a clean truck window,

That shows weathered, old eyes staring back from somewhere deep inside.

The wrinkled skin is seemingly painted on a youthful canvas that hides underneath,

Still remembering the graceful movements from a less used frame.


Oh, but it is there now, a reminder of all things that have come and gone,

All that has brought laughter and pain, and the absorption of a well used life.

The paper skin covers old bones and all she wants is for people to realize

There is more there, beneath the skin, than what appears to be on this new surface.


We are fortunate if we have experiences, the love and pain that life offers,

To wear paper skin as our sleeves, and have the bruises of life cover our legs.

The purple and blue are a road map of scars that reveal who we truly were and are,

And in the end, when your breaths become more shallow, you know you did your best.





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© 2022 by Chuck Murphree

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