Poem: Wrinkles

Wrinkles, oh wrinkles,

Symbols of decay,

Etched on our faces,

As time slips away.

Each line tells a story,

Of laughter and tears,

Of love and of loss,

Of all the passing years.

They mark our journey,

From youth to old age,

A roadmap of memories,

On life's winding stage.

But though they may show

The wear and the tear,

They also reveal

The wisdom we bear.

For wrinkles, dear friend,

Are not just a sign

Of the ravages of time,

But of a life well-lived and divine.

So embrace your wrinkles,

And wear them with pride,

For they are a testament

To the beauty inside.